Food for Thought

In all honesty I have a 'bee in my bonnet', so to speak.  Thus the purpose for this blog.  Short and to the point.  This past week I have heard numerous comments about Michelle Obama, all negative, concerning the school lunch program. 

"Michelle Obama: School lunches to have more veggies, whole grains."

 I have listened to complaints about not getting a daily cookie/piece of cake, having to go with whole grains and too many fruits and vegetables.  In fact, one person suggested Mrs. Obama needed to get a new cause.

I see such irony in this coming from the Beehive state.  Let me quote scripture from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  "All grain is good for the food of man; as also the fruit of the vine; that which yieldeth fruit, whether in the ground or above the ground—"  D&C 89: 16  Yes, the church has a health code and Mrs. Obama's platform is 100% in accordance with it.

Personally, I suppose it is her race and political party that unnerves most of the people complaining.  I also noticed that 95% of those complaining were overweight.  I would bet my bottom dollar if Ann Romney wanted the children in the public school system to be served healthier foods they would all shout hooray for her.  After all she is white , she is republican and she is L.D.S.

As for me.... I am not a healthy eater (yes, I need to work on that scripture!) but I appreciate school lunches that have improved.  In the past green salad meant lettuce.  Last week I had one that actually had a variety of lettuce and cherry tomatoes in it!  It was  colorful, tasteful and healthy.  As for the whole grain breads, we have some awesome cooks and it is delicious! But I love and prefer whole wheat bread!!  The children are served a lot more fruit.  Fresh grapes are often on the menu for lunch or breakfast. And, yes there is a lot of waste.  But I worked in the lunch room 6 years ago and even then there was a lot of waste.  I have seen children come to school with a sack lunch consisting of potato chips and fruit roll ups.  That never goes to waste.

Shame on Mrs. Obama for wanting a healthier lifestyle for our children.  

I will end with a quote from President Benson ( a former Prophet and leader of the Church, he is since deceased).

President Ezra Taft Benson observed: "To a significant degree, we are an overfed and undernourished nation digging an early grave with our teeth, and lacking the energy that could be ours because we overindulge in junk foods. . . . We need a generation of young people, who, as Daniel, eat a more healthy manner than to fare on 'the king's meat'--and whose countenances show it" 

Experiencing Loves First Loss

Last spring I took Max and Ava to a neighbors house to pick out a kitten.  Every child deserves a pet.  After all their father was raised with dogs, cats, rabbits, turtles, birds, fish and a gerbil or two.  He was blessed with such good parents!!  Surely he would allow  his own children to have a pet.  Plus the fact that outdoor cats are the easiest pet to have.  We picked out the cutest kitten from the litter.  She had been well loved thus she liked to be mauled.  Imagine my surprise when their father, my son said no.  Being the "good grandmother" I kept her at our house, but she belonged to the children.  We named her Patches.  Max and Ava liked Patches very much.  They were  gentle and nice with her.  But it was Isaac who LOVED Patches and surprisingly enough she loved him.  He could be not so gentle and not so nice to her, but he loved her and she was game for whatever. 

 

Well, unfortunately one day when I came home from work Patches was no where to be found.  I obsessed about it for one week and then gave it up.  Saturday morning I was outside cleaning out my flower bed.  Isaac was sitting on the front step watching me.  Out of the clear blue he sadly said:  "Grandma I want Patches."  After explaining to him for the umpteenth time that Patches was gone and was not coming back he explained to me that he missed her.  I told Isaac to go upstairs and tell his dad and his grandfather that he wanted Patches, that he missed Patches and then tell them he would like another kitten.  They were both on the same page and told  him no.  Ummm I wonder if I can talk Scott in to going to the pet store while we are in St. George Labor Day weekend?  Already phoned both local vets and neither one has any kittens!

Good-Bye

I would have to say that my first experience with good-byes took place at the age of 8.  Our family left the lush, fertile Salt Lake Valley for the dry, desert oil field  located in Rangely, Colorado.  We left behind a small new home in suburbia, maternal extended family, friends, neighbors and a very happy childhood.

Experience #2 came with graduation from Rangely High School.  By now I  had come to love the desert and the beauty of the oil field.  I loved the house on the hill, the neighbors and my friends.  It was a wonderful time of life and I found graduating a rather difficult good-bye!

Experience #3 came when I left the Belgium Brussels mission.  After serving the people of France and Belgium for 18 months I had come to love the people and the countries.  I loved the language, the cobblestones, the crazy driving habits, the shops, the missionary spirit and camaraderie. but most of all the Belge and French people.

Years later I would be taking my own children to the Missionary Training Center to say my good-byes. Knowing full well when they returned life would not be the same. They would return as adults, attend Utah State University, find a spouse and begin life on their own. 

A very difficult good-bye took place in the year 2000 when I said good-bye to my parents.  My father on the 6th of July and my mother on October 27th.  While bathing her one morning I had remarked that  for Halloween she was going as a skeleton!  She had lost so much weight.  She thought that was funny and agreed.  She was buried on Oct. 31st.  She had a change of costume.  She went as an angel!

My most recent good-bye took place in Salt Lake at the Utah National Guard Air Base.  My youngest son would be leaving us for a year or so for tour of duty in Afghanistan.  Seeing the airplane close and in full view and seeing all the men in army uniforms was quite an emotional moment.  I had taken 3 children to the MTC to say good-bye for 18 to 24 months and not shed one tear!  Now it was a different scene!  Yes, I did shed some tears and I do not cry easily!!  I did not have my camera with me, but KSL had theirs and it was much better than mine!!  You can watch Phillip and Kristina on:
www.ksl.com 

Type this in search:  150 National Guard soldiers deploying to Afghanistan and click the video.

  

"How blessed  I have been in life to have someone that makes saying goodbye so hard."  ~Carol Sobieski and Thomas Meehan, Annie

Yes,  my life has been extremely blessed.  I also recognize that  without those good-byes I would not have hellos.  Saying good-bye to Kearns meant saying hello to Rangely.  Saying good-bye to Rangely meant saying hello to B.Y.U., France and Belgium.  Saying goodby to France and Belgium meant saying hello to Scott and Delta.  Saying good-bye to Matthew, Jonathan, Alizabeth and Phillip meant saying hello to Laura, Melanie, Ben, Kristina and 9 little grandchildren with 3 on the way!  As difficult as good-byes may be I would not ask to do without them.

Goodbye for now and thanks to all for blessing my life! 

The Day the Relatives Left

The day the relatives left...

Granny slept and slept and slept some more!

And snored and snored and snored some more!

Grandpa did the same.

The Day the Relatives Came...

They came by car.

They came by plane.

They came from the north.

They came from the east.

They came from the west.

They came, and they came, and they came!
And while they were here...

They hiked in the snow. 

They rode horses.

They jumped on the tramp dry.

They jumped on the tramp wet.

They exploded Diet Coke and Mentos.

They broke open a pinata.

They enjoyed good food and good company.

They got a hair cut.

They 'chilled' out together.

  

They went swimming in the pool.

They relaxed in the hot tub.

They partied in the hotel room.

And when it was time to say good bye 

they gave Uncle Phil a great BIG hug.

My Mother Was a Barbie Doll

It was probably 10 years plus since "Sam" (name has been changed) was in our preschool class.  Sam came from a lower income family.  Which quite often reflects on cleanliness and appearance.  And in this case it did.  Sam's mother was a very large woman who dressed poorly, most likely due to low income and I suspect  spousal abuse. I must interject she did divorce and left the area and I have often wondered how the little family has fared in life.

Mothers Day was fast approaching.  We were busy doing plaster of paris hand prints, seed packet cards and program practice.  Inside the Mothers Day card is a variety of questions we would pose to our 4 and 5 year old students.  Questions about their mother.  For example:  How much does your mom weigh? So nice to know  your child thinks you weigh 4 lbs.  How tall is your mother? She is usually 'this tall' as they would show us with the their hands. What is your mother's favorite food? (Macaroni and Cheese quite often took the number one answer!)  And, my mother is as pretty as...  Most children would say a rose or a flower or a princess.  But the day we 'interviewed' Sam we were in for a treat.  A treat I will always remember.  He was posed the question:  "My mother is as pretty as.."  Without a moments hesitation he replied:  "A Barbie Doll."  I  had never heard a child give this answer before or since.  It was wonderful!!  Yes, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and to this little one his mother was a #10.  To the worlds standard she would have fared much lower, but to the one who matters most she scored high.

Happy Mothers Day to all you moms out there.  You may not be a perfect mother, but to your little one you are!  Have a great day!

A Bird In The Hand...

I have installed my humming bird feeder and it has attracted a few cute little fellows.  This morning I tried to quietly sneak out front to take a photo of my new friends.  They caught on to my tactics and whisked off, but what I did find was even better!  Yes, this adorable little bird was in my flower bed sound asleep.  It was a very cool morning with a nice little breeze.  I could not decide if this little guy was someone's pet, hurt or frozen so I picked  him up and brought him in the house.  That was when I discovered he could fly.  Having two house cats I decided it was probably in  his best interest to be turned loose outside. 

I took my camera to Max's soccer game and Dr. John Anderson was there.  Of course, I had to show him the photo and ask him what type of bird it was.  He informed me it was a finch.  I am now wishing I had purchased a bird cage, bird seed and made this beautiful little guy a new house pet!!  Isn't he adorable.  In the next life I want to be Dr. Doolittle!!

Alike Yet Different

Meet Molly.  Molly is paw less and claw less.  Molly is sweet, very sweet.

Meet Gus.  Gus is claw less, but not paw less.  Gus is funny and loveable.  Gus is Molly's brother.  Molly is Gus's sister.

Molly stands on her hind haunches.  Something Gus does not do.  Gus goes outside.  Something Molly does not do.

Isn't it wonderful we are alike yet different!

Thoughts on Napping...

“Think what a better world it would be if we all, the whole world, had cookies and milk about three o'clock every afternoon and then lay down on our blankets for a nap.”


quoting Robert Fulghum in 1987 at Middlebury College

Hope

When the world says, "Give up,"

Hope whispers, "Try it one more time."

~Author Unknown

This is a persistent little flower.  A left over from Beulah's flower bed that we dismantled and planted grass in its place.  That was 2 or 3 summers ago.  It is my hope that it tries it one more time each and every spring!

Last Man (Woman) Standing

I would personally like to award myself an Emmy for my performance in "The Last Man Standing."  Yes the soap opera began Friday when Zoe threw up all over her mother.  It continued into the wee hours of Saturday morning with Isaac throwing up and Laura patiently sleeping by him. Perhaps I should interject here that Matthew and Laura spent the weekend moving from their rental to their new home thus explaining the weekend stay at Grandmas. Sunday morning I woke up to a little voice telling me, "Grandma is throwing up grandma."  Yes, Isaac calls both Scott and I grandma!  Not only did Scott have the flu, but Matthew and Laura as well.  I was officially the last man standing!!!  I also put on a great performance for the show "Saints and Sinners."  I stayed home from church and ran my washing machine from sunup to sundown!  If I am going to get the flu I am at least going to be sick in a clean house!

Speaking of Funerals

While conversing with a friend she mentioned she had attended the funeral of a fellow schoolmate.  She was impressed with the comments made by the deceased's children.  They stated that their mother always looked like a model.  My friend hoped her children would say such nice things about her.  This gave me some food for thought as to what my children would say about me.  They would never be able to say their mom always looked like a model!  Not unless, of course, they would like to enjoy an eternity of heat!  Then I thought of my mother and what I said at her funeral. 

"How well I remember the little room off of the kitchen in our home in Kearns.  Janet and I had everything we needed to set up house- irons and ironing boards, dolls and doll clothes, doll beds complete with blankets and pillows, dishes, and even little sewing machines.  We were in training for the profession of 'homemaker.'  And we were very fortunate to be blessed with a mother who set such  a marvelous example.  We were well fed, well dressed and well cared for.

How well I remember the summer of 1960 when we moved to Rangely, Colorado.  Our first home, so to speak, was the bunk house on the hill.  I vividly remember having a couple of neighbor girls over to play.  One of the girls and myself wanted to be 'blood sisters', but we did not want the other girl to be our blood sister.  My mother spoke with me and attempted to teach me the principle of inclusion.  You see, my mother was an extremely kind person and she tried to teach that principle to her children.

My mother was not caught up in the 'things of the world'.  She had some jewelry in a jewelry box, but I never saw it on her.  It was always in the box!  She had no attachment to material possessions.  Her family was her attachment and her greatest possession.

This is the legacy my mother left for me:  "Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt and thieves break through and steal.  But lay up for yourselves treasures that fill the heart and nourish the soul."  And..."Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."  Beautiful mother, beautiful legacy.

My mother in her favorite roll as mother and grandmother.

Her kind heart extended not only to mankind, but  animals as well.

A Funeral To Die For

I suppose before I begin with his funeral I should introduce you to Burnell. 

I first met Burnell and his mother Blanche while working in Customer Service at Quality Market.  Delta folklore has it that Burnell's father was in a bar when he announced that the next woman to walk through the door would become his wife.  Blanche was the next woman to walk through the door.  She was quite a bit younger than her spouse.  He was deceased by the time I became acquainted with the Ferry's.  Blanche and Burnell were both small in stature.  Blanche was very petite and she always wore a coat! They were limited in their financial resources as well as in their intellectual capabilities. Thus cleanliness was not of the utmost importance.  However they were not limited with their smiles and happy nature.  Whenever I think of them I always picture them happy and smiling.  Burnell hauled garbage to the dump for people (including the store).  Blanche was always in the truck with Burnell.  You never saw one without the other until Blanche passed away and then Burnell found him a dog that traveled with him.  Another Delta folklore has it that one day Burnell turned the corner too fast and Blanche fell out.  He hit the brakes, backed up, picked her up, put her back in the truck and away they went.

When Burnell passed away I invited Scotts Aunt June to attend the service with me.  It was a very small service held at the local mortuary.  The service was not so much about Burnell as it was about a community coming together to help the less fortunate.  Burnell would haul  garbage to the dump for Quality Market and in return he and Blanche were allowed to shop for all their needs.  Burnell would charge gas at the local Co-Op.  He was proud of the fact that he only charged gas, never any goodies.  He did not quite comprehend the need to pay for the gas and the Co-Op never sent him a bill. Burnell owned an old truck.  He thought it needed a new engine and most likely it did!  Delta Auto ordered a new engine and Burnell would come in monthly to make a small payment.  A ghost payment also arrived monthly and within the year the new engine was paid off. 

I left the service feeling uplifted about the anonymous kindness of others.  I was  grateful I attended, grateful to have known Blanche and Burnell and grateful for the community I live in.  Yes, it was a funeral service to die for so to speak!

Prom Now and Then

Delta's Prom is somewhat different than I remember Prom being in 1969 or 1970 at R.H.S.  It begins months in advance.  Shopping for the perfect dress, which can cost around $500.00 when you add in matching shoes and jewelry.  The trick is to have no two dresses that look alike.  Mother and daughter must travel up north, down south in search of the 'perfect' one of a kind dress.  When it is found it usually has to be altered to conform with dress code. 

I saw a young woman in this dress.  It was pulled up higher and straps were added.  She looked lovely!

Then there is the quest for the date.  Some young men ask the girl of their dreams months in advance.  Only to discover that 6 months later their dream has changed!  So silly to ask so far in advance.  

Prom is an all day affair.  A day date, evening dinner, dance and sometimes breakfast and movies after.  The parents ( and any other adult who wants to go) attend Prom for the first 30 minutes.  It begins with an introduction of the young woman and her escort.  This is  followed by the Promenade (a choreographed dance for all interested couples).  After the promenade fathers, guardians, grandfathers, friends etc. head down to the dance floor for a slow dance with their princess.   Fathers and daughters then leave the dance floor and mothers and sons have their turn dancing together.  After this ritual the adults are nicely asked to leave and the enchanted evening is turned over to the youth. 

My friend Marjie invited me to attend Prom with her Saturday night. It was much more enjoyable than attending   any high school prom of my own!  It was also much more enjoyable than attending with my children.  Just an evening to relax and take it all in.  The decorations were some of the best I have ever seen.  After all of the drama that took place concerning the dress code I thought the youth looked simply wonderful.  As for those who wanted to enforce a much stricter dress code...I think they have lived in an L.D.S. Utah bubble way too long!

As for a beautiful retro prom photo I have one I would like to share.

It is not so much about the dress (which I am certain did not cost any where near $500.00), but more about the beauty of the young woman.  Though her date has the look of a deer caught in the headlights!  Thank goodness for old yearbooks!  Yes, she signed the yearbook which explains the name up the sleeve.

The Ever Elusive Leprechaun

Every March Mrs. Nielson (our preschool teacher) talks to the children about Leprechauns.  Sharing with them one St. Patricks Day story after another. She shows them a picture of a pot and asks them if a pot is real.  The answer is always yes.  She  shows them a picture of a rainbow and ask them if rainbows are real.  Once again the answer is yes.  She  shows them a picture of gold and ask them if gold is real.  Yes, yes, yes! 

Then she  shows a picture of a Leprechaun and asks them if Leprechaun's are real.  The answer is no.  No Leprechaun's are NOT real.  This is a fact they all agree on.  March 16th arrives.  The children  set a trap to catch the Leprechaun.  Imagination's  soar and the classroom is filled with anticipation and excitement. March 17th  arrives.  Entering the classroom the children are greeted  with gold dust (gold glitter works great!), small white footprints and a trap that has obviously gone off.  A good sign the Leprechaun is caught!  Quietly and slowly Mrs. Nielson  lifts the trap and much to every one's surprise the Leprechaun is no where to be found!  We all know a Leprechaun is NOT real!  But... he did leave a black pot and it is full of gold , gold Rolos that is.  Next year a new group of students will excitedly set a trap to catch the ever elusive non-existent Leprechaun.  Happy St. Patricks Day!  May you be blessed with the Luck of the Irish.  Whether that be finding a pot, finding a rainbow, finding gold or finding the excitement and anticipation that exists in the hearts of children everywhere!

The trap is closed.  Good Sign!

 No Leprechaun!  Just a black pot.

Sharing the 'gold'.

What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas

Mr. B travelled to Henderson, Nevada for a four day conference.  Mrs. B (that would be myself) tagged along.  I learned something about myself during my stay. 

I love light! But  I am particular with what type of light I enjoy. I love sunlight, moonlight, starlight and accent lights like the one on the Hotel at night. 

I do NOT like, nope not one little bit Casino lights.

I call them 'migraine headache' lights.

I also love sounds.  The hum of an oil well as it rhythmically pumps up and down. 

 The sound of the tractor on a beautiful summer day or the sound of the train as it pulses through town. 

But as with light I do have sounds I do not like.  In particular, I do not care for the sound of the slot machine. 

Which leads me to my twist on the statement,

"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas." 

Here it goes...

What happens in Vegas CAN stay in Vegas. 

I will take Delta, Utah any day.

P.S.  I did get quite a bit of work done on my counted cross stitch project!