BOO!

I found my camera!

It was on top of the washer.

I didn't even look in the laundry room

because, since the redo, I don't

make piles there anymore.

(Honestly!)

Not because I'm a reformed

stash and dasher,

but because there's nowhere to set things.

Other than (I guess) on top of the washer.

Where is it?

I've spent the last half hour

looking for my camera.

No luck.

I knew what I was going to post tonight

but I had to take a picture.

Now I can't.

So, I'm writing this boring post.

My camera's got to be here somewhere.  

Unless it fell out of my purse or something.

If I had it in my purse.

On positive note,

we did take the right car out

to be inspected today.

It passed.

If nothing else

we're flexible.

I called Gary at 4 pm when I remembered that we needed to take the Suburban in for an inspection and emissions test.  He told me to wait for him and we'd go out together and get something to eat while it was being done.   He came home, and we headed out to Lube Doc to have the inspections done.  Just as we were pulling into Lube Doc, Gary said, "Wait a minute, it's not this car that needs the inspection is it?"  We looked at each other and shook our heads.  We had just automatically gotten into his car instead of the one that needed the inspection and tests.   By that time it was too late to go home and change cars, so we improvised. 

We did this instead.

We'll do the inspection tomorrow

(if we remember to take the right car).

History in these

Chairs.

Tonight I was sitting in the chair on the left, 

and Gary in the chair on the right.

We were visiting with our Home Teachers.

As we talked,

I looked closely at the chairs we were sitting in

and thought of their history.

They were in Mom and Dad's bedroom and

 set the stage for many hours of conversation.

Mom would sit in the left chair (by her window),

 and whoever was visiting with her in the right chair.

If Dad was there, which he usually was, 

he would sit on the bed.

Mom was, more often than not,

 doing some handwork

(crotcheting, cross stich, embroidery).

After Mom died, my Aunt Beth told me that

when she visited with Mom in the bedroom

(two days before she died),

that Mom was working on this

Twelve Days of Christmas runner for me.

For a long time I sentimentally kept the

needle threaded through

the cloth just where Mom had left it.

But, now I'm trying to work on it

and hopefully finish it someday.

I don't have the skill or

patience that Mom had for it, though.

I think I'm rambling a bit here,

but I guess it stems from the fact that

so many memories come from those chairs.

 Add Dad's painting on the wall behind the chairs

and the grandfather clock that he built,

and we've got a whole lot of history there.

Turn off and recharge

After all the problems with my computer a few weeks ago, I was very dismayed yesterday when I got on my computer and the screen was black. It would turn on, but the monitor would not.


I called support, and he had me remove the power cord and take out the battery pack. Then he had me press and hold the "on" button for 2 minutes. Then he had me connect the power cord back into the computer and turn it on again.

IT WORKED!

The monitor came back on.

What a relief.

So, why am I writing this?

First, so if it happens again I'll remember what to do.

Second, because while I was at yoga right after that

I had a "deep thought."

Those don't happen very often, so I have to record it.

The (layman's) explanation the support guy gave for why the computer did what it did was this:



Sometimes the circuitry gets overloaded, or just goes crazy, and there becomes a static buildup that shuts down the flow. So, if you take away all the power sources, thus giving the circuitry a rest, that it will oftentimes rejuvenate itself.



So, if I can remember right, my deep thought was something like this: "When we start to feel overwhelmed and find ourselves wanting to give up or shut down, we need to turn off all the negatives energy and 'static buildup' that accumulates in our minds and refocus our thoughts on what really matters. Taking the time to do that enables us to recharge and get going again without the static buildup that complicates our lives."

I'm not sure that makes sense now, but it did then.

Maybe it's a little too deep for me.

 

Does this

picture just makes you smile?

It does me.

What is Lucienne cook'n up in her mind?

Her smile is way cuter than a smirk,

but the overall expression makes me

think she may have a

little of her grandpa's scheming in her.

Dad

This was one of the most difficult days of my life,

but it was not without it's tender mercies.

I miss you, Dad.

Transferring Purses

We sent Misty a purse for her birthday in August.  I bought it, took a picture of it, and emailed the pictures to Misty to see if she liked it.

shown here: 

She did. 

A few days after her birthday when I talked with her she said she really liked it, but that she hadn't had time yet to change from her old purse to the new one.  She also told me that Lydia was very concerned that Misty was going to do that while she was at school. 

I totally understand your concern, Lydia.
Lydia had commented to Misty that the best part of
getting a new purse was transferring everything

from the old one to the new one.

I could not agree more.

I had a hard time not wanting to
organize it for Misty,

and I didn't even have the "stuff"

she was going to put in it.

Let's just say that in anything pertaining to purses

these 3 generations think alike.

There is just something about bags and purses.

As far as I'm concerned,
you can never have too many.

You must have every conceivable
size ready for every

conceivable use you might have.

I am still on a quest for the perfect purse,

but I haven't found it yet. 

I'll let you know when I do.

I'm way too lazy today to take pictures

of the numerous bags and purses

hanging over the back of two of the

upstairs bedroom doors.

But just ask Gary,

he'll verify that I have one

for every possible scenario.

On second thought, maybe you shouldn't.

Mrs. Ashton

As I woke this morning and laid in bed,

my thoughts were about Gary's mom.   

Mrs. Ashton, as I called her.   

She's been on my mind a lot lately.  

Just last week, I was having a

conversation with friends about

what they call their mother-in-laws and

what their daughter or son-in-laws call them.   

Since I first got to know Gary's Mom, Afton, when I was 13 years old, she was always Mrs. Ashton to me.  My Mom and Dad were Mr. and Mrs. Anderson to Gary.   After 7 years of calling them by their formal names, it was very natural to just keep addressing them that way once we were married.  I know that may seem odd to the less formal younger generations, but it wasn't to us.   Of course, once the children came it was natural to address her as grandma. 

Grandma Ashton was very
much a part of our lives.  

Jess, Gary's dad, died in 1969 at the age of 55

(Gary was just barely 15),

So, Afton was a widow for more than 30 years.

Through the very, very, amazing

 history that Afton wrote before she died,

I gained a deeper understanding
of what motivated her

and gave her direction
once her husband died.

"What it boiled down to"
was that she was going to give her all to her family
and make sure that their life was not

less because their father was gone.

There is so much to write about her

and her involvement in our lives,

and I will write more later.

She attended every event,

dropped by most days after her work,

usually bringing gifts and food.

We loved it at the time,

but I understand that need

even more now as a grandparent.

You just want to be able to "give" something.

On the lighter side,

the other event that brought memories
back was last week when I was
driving up Canyon Road.

There was a long line of cars
behind a very slow driver.

For just one brief second the thought

came to my mind that it was Grandma Ashton.  

Obviously not so,
but it came out of years of habit.

Anyone living in the Edgemont area

of Provo knew Grandma Ashton. 

If for no other reason than that if there

was a big line of cars behind

a very slow silver car at the front,

they knew who it was.

The girl's friends would tell them,

"We were behind your grandma today."

Neighbors would say,

"We saw a big line of traffic and just knew

it was Mrs. Ashton at the front."

She went through life 
fast and with determination,

but she drove very, very slowly. 

(Which was actually good because then you could get out of her way, should she decide at the last minute to change directions!)

So many memories.  I miss her.

Gary with his Dad and Mom

Gary and his Mom at our Wedding 1974

9 years ago

today our Grandson,
Hyrum,
was born.

Look at that sweet face.

shown here with his family

Things we love about Hyrum

are his smile (it is contagious!)

Shown here last year with his

Dad at his baptism

and his sweetness

(it must be from all that candy he eats!)

shown here at 2 years old

In addition to candy,

Hyrum loves school supplies

(you name it--paper, pens, sticky notes,

stickers, mechanical pencils, etc).

A boy after my own heart.

Consider this a birthday hug from grandpa

and Grandma

Happy Birthday, Hyrum.

We love you!

Achieving

Balance.

Something I think about a lot.

I've seen a marked improvement with my balance in Yoga.  When I first started a couple of years ago, I couldn't even lift my foot off the floor and balance in any way.  Now, on a good day, I can strike the tree pose (shown here -- not me, the tree pose) and hold it for a while.   I definitely don't do it as well as the picture shows, but I really have improved a lot.

What I haven't seen a lot of improvement in is

balance in other areas of my life.

By that I mean, overcoming my

 "all or nothing" tendencies.

 

Take today for instance.  Such good intentions.  We did get up and go on a walk after which I went to a baptism of Cole, one of my cute Primary boys.  Since then, though, it's been a nothing day.  I'm sitting here looking at several boxes of geneology that I pulled out to work on, a pile of discs to be organized, and recipe boxes to finish.   

If I would learn to do a little bit at a time,

in moderation,

then I wouldn't have those "all" days

and those "nothing" days.

There would be balance.

But, until I achieve that,

I'm giving myself permission to have a nothing day

and to enjoy doing nothing,

since that's what I'm doing anyway.

By the time you're 55,  aren't you supposed to have it all together?

Another Breakfast Staple

Bran muffins have been a staple in our family for a long time.  I love this recipe because the batter can sit in the fridge for up to 6 weeks.   But, more often than not, I just cook them all up at one time, freeze them, and pull them out when I need them. 

Have I mentioned lately how much

I LOVE my convection oven? 

In case I haven't,

I just wanted to reaffirm it. 

It can cook 6 pans of muffins at one time! 

BRAN MUFFINS

6 cups All Bran Cereal
2 cups boiling water
1 quart buttermilk (Add 4 T. Lemon juice or vinegar to milk, let sit 5 minutes)
3 cups brown sugar
4 eggs
1 cup oil
5 cups flour (can use part or all wheat flour)
5 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt

Pour water over cereal and let cool a little. Stir in order the remaining ingredients. Blend well. Bake at 400 for 12 to 13 min.  Makes about 5 dozen muffins.

Here's a picture of mini bran muffins.

 I was in such a hurry that I didn't have time to arrange them nicely--

Just had to dump them in the bowl.

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Muffins

Here is my friend wearing the

Bee (word I will not say again)
apron from the breakfast mini class.

One of the recipes I shared at the class was this:

(pictured here are some mini versions of them)

 

I love these pumpkin chip muffins!

Every time I make them I think of my friend,

Sue R., who gave me the recipe.

Every time I make them I also
I think of my grandson, Ashton,

because he loves them as much as I do.

When they lived here in Provo,

these muffins were what Ashton

requested more than any other treat.

(Next time I make them, Ashton,

I'll send some your way)

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Muffins

Serves 18

1 1/3 cups sugar

5 1/2 tablespoons shortening

2 eggs, well beaten

1 cup canned pumpkin

1 3/4 cups flour

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon cloves

1/2 teaspoon salt

Milk chocolate chips (or semi-sweet)
5 1/2 tablespoons hot water
Chopped nuts (optional)

Cream sugar and shortening until fluffy. Add eggs and pumpkin. Add hot water. Sift together dry ingredients together and add to mixture. Add nuts and choc chips. Pour into greased muffin tins coated with sugar (or you can just use paper liners--it makes the cleanup easier) Bake at 375 to 400 degrees for 17-18 minutes.

Bee-ing

Today has been all about bees.

No, I didn't get stung.

It was the "Bee Theme"

Breakfast, Lunch, and Snack mini classes

at our Ward Enrichment night.

I was presenting the

"Bee-gin your Day in a Bee-utiful Way"

breakfast class.

So, for the last few days I've been baking (and eating)

muffins, and breads, and breakfast cookies

so that there could "bee" some samples.

Okay, enough is enough,

I promise I won't write "bee" one more time.

I love hearing from the women of the ward as

they share their thoughts, ideas, and talents

one with another.

Each person has different gifts to give,

and they all share them willingly.

After the _ _ _ classes,

there was a choice of music or art classes by

a talented artist and vocal teacher in our ward.

I'm beyond hope with the voice,

so I went to the art class.

This is what I created.

It's a booklet that started with the colored cover.

We chose our own paper and tissue.

We drew our own figure.

Then we water colored.

Heather, the teacher, said that the nice

thing about art is that you if you don't like to draw

hands you don't have to.

I didn't want to draw a face because

I knew I would mess it up,

so I didn't.

Very liberating.

I was so proud of myself!

Recipes tomorrow.

"I was really looking

forward to having fun tonight," said Natalie as we sat at Cafe Rio having dinner.

"Uh, excuse us, but isn't having dinner with us any fun?"

We understood what she meant, though, because we had planned to be at the "Beatles" concert at the outdoor Scera Shell. That is until it got rained out. It has been re-scheduled for Friday, but Gary will have the Timpview football game and I'll have a Stake meeting, so we won't be able to go.

Then Natalie said. "But I was really looking forward to watching you guys when you acted like you could dance."

Excuse us again!

She got in even deeper when she said, "But, mom, it's so funny to watch the expression on your face when you dance. You and all your brothers and sister get this same expression when you're dancing. It's so funny."

At that point, I'm afraid she was in so deep that she couldn't get out.

I just

remembered something I had totally forgotten about. As I was watching "Catch Me If You Can" with Natalie, there was a "candy striper" in it.

To Paraphrase the definition of a candy striper:

"A candy striper was traditionally a young, female hospital volunteer. The unique job title represented the candy cane look of the red and white-striped pinafores worn by the volunteers." During the 1950s and 60s, the popularity of candy stripers was widespread. In general, the goal of a candy striper was to make a patient's stay in the hospital more pleasant."

I remember walking from my home on Cedar Avenue, going across the BYU campus, walking down the BYU hill, and then on to the hospital on 5th West and about 900 North. It was something I really wanted to do, but to be honest, I don't think it was as much out of a desire to serve as it was that I liked the cute uniforms and it was a cool thing to do. I don't have any pictures of me in the uniform, but here is a picture of it (circa late 60's early 70's)

You can see why I would want to be one, can't you?

I think it must have been the summer between 8th an 9th grade (1968). My responsibility was to go from room to room with a cart with amenities for the patients (magazines, candy, books, etc.) I remember it actually being somewhat intimidating to me, as I never knew what condition the patient was in or if they were allowed to eat candy or whatever it was they wanted.

Interesting that I had totally forgotten about that.

It's been a busy day: Deacons here for breakfast, mission farewell of my cousin Susan and her husband Bruce (going to Florida). Primary, and lots and lots of cooking as I try to get ready for the "breakfast" mini-class I'm helping on this Tuesday.

Monk we're not

While at the gym this morning,

I kept feeling these sharp pricks on my foot,

like there was a rock or something in my shoe. 

I took my shoes and socks off several times,

and searched for a little rock or piece of glass. 

My foot was even bleeding,

but I couldn't find anything.

I was still feeling these little 

pricks when we got home. 

I had Gary look at my foot,

check inside my sock,

and then check inside my shoe.  

As I was watching him check the shoe,

I noticed something on the bottom of it. 

It blended in with the colors on the shoe,

so at first I didn't think anything of it. 

Then I looked more closely.

"Wait a minute. 

What is that on the bottom of my shoe?"

Duh!

Like I said,

Monk we're not. 

(the detective on the TV show,

not the Catholic kind)

Seriously, after this last week of

going out with a velcro curler stuck to my back,

a size tag (XL) left on a shirt,

and now a cute little heart shaped thumb tack

on bottom of my shoe,

I'm thinking I may need a personal assistant.

(Grandchildren are welcome to apply!)

Sometimes

it can be overwhelming

when you hear about

some of the trials that people are going through.

It's hard not to let the thoughts of the burdens

they carry get you down. Almost immobilize you.

You wonder how they do it.

How they keep going.

I truly believe that during difficult times that

God is there and that angels assist.

I've felt it and I've watched it with others.

How else can you explain the

strength,

the resiliency,

the ability to put one foot in front of the other,

even when it seems there is no strength

or hope left?

I love how President Hinckley always spoke so positively: 

“Keep trying.”

“Be believing."

"Be happy."

"Don’t get discouraged."

"Things will work out.”

And, in the end, we know it will all work out.

And along the way, if we don't get bogged down with

helplessness or hopelessness,

and don't become discouraged ourselves,

we can be an instrument in helping to lighten the burdens of others.  

I guess I needed this pep talk to myself today.

Smirky or Not Smirky?

Gary came home today carrying an envelope

that I readily identified as his school picture. 

He promptly asked me,

"What was that word you

and the girls used for my smile,

the one you all laughed at

when you saw last year's picture?"

Me, "Oh, you mean 'Smirk.'"

(Poor guy, we've got him totally

self-concious about his smile, or lack thereof) 

He turns over his new school picture:

"Is this a smirk?"

Me:  "Well, I don't think it's as

"Smirky as last year's."

I love this guy,

"Smirk" and all.
(but, I still can't keep from
laughing when I look at last year's.
It makes me think he's
got some scheme cooking)

"Limited" College Sports Fan

I can really get excited about college athletics.

On one condition, that is.

If I know someone on the team.

Or even if I know someone

who knows someone on the team.

I followed all the Provo High teams because the players were my friends.  I followed the BYU football team when my brother-in-law, Craig, was on it.  I followed the Snow College and Southern Utah State (Football and Baseball) teams when Gary was on them.  I followed the BYU Women's volleyball team when my niece, Leslie, was on it.   I followed the Idaho State Soccer team when my niece, Stephanie, was on it.  And the list could go on.  Now I'm following the BYU Soccer team because my nephew, Cory, has a daughter, Lauren, playing on it. (Lauren is my brother, Gary's, granddaughter)

It has been fun going to the BYU Soccer games when I am able to attend.  Lauren came in as a freshman last year, and has done really well.  An added bonus is that I get to see Cory and his wife Stacy more, as they trade off flying into home games from their home in California.

On the program from Monday's soccer game there were interview questions for the athletes. One of Lauren's questions was, "Who do you call first after a game."   Her answer was, "My Dad."  That is so sweet, and it doesn't surprise me.   It is almost as much fun to watch Cory at the games as it is to watch Lauren.  It seems he can read her every move and senses everything she is feeling.

They are such a good family.

This says it all

I think I've probably licked what amounts to 1 cup of cream cheese frosting. Don't worry, it was frosting that had dropped on the counter or spilled over the top of the decorating tube. I honestly didn't lick it off the cupcakes. I also didn't lick it off the floor (or I would have eaten 2 cups of frosting).

And, I have my computer back!

Still living on

borrowed computer.

At 3 am this morning we finished working

with a tech support guy (all the way in India)

who was very nice, pleasant,

knowledgeable, and helpful

(even when we kept him a

couple of hours after his shift ended).

I'm more appreciative of what tech support people

go through since Natalie has been working

in that field for the last few years.

Someday I'll have to write about

some of her horror stories.

Anyway, even after all the hours and help,

the prognosis for my laptop was not what I had hoped,

but what Gary had feared all along.

Time to backup the data (at least we could do that)

and start all over again by re imaging

and re-installing all the programs.

(Just for the record,

Gary hates the Vista operating system)

So, between going to breakfast,

shopping for a backup hard drive,

backing up data,

going to a BYU soccer game,

and now making cupcakes

(you know the ones I'm doing for the second time),

that is what today has been all about.


That, and missing my grandchildren.

(looking at all the pictures as we've

been backing them up

makes me miss them even more).