My Childhood Home

My childhood home. It was a grand, old farmhouse. Located at 1297 Old Darby Road (later changed to 2811 Old Darby Road), Darby, Montana, was fondly nicknamed “The White House” – whether by envious neighbors or because of the many people coming and going didn’t matter. To me, it was a palace, an incredible masterpiece that demanded the attention of a four, year old wrapped in the world of make-believe.

It didn’t take long for the oil drum for the furnace outside the window of the family room to be changed into a giant horse, which when painted white to match the siding on the house became the white stallion that would save all the damsels in distress.

The steep, narrow stairs to the upstairs became a perfect “mountain” for those rainy or snowy days on pillowcases or cookie sheets. You took your life in your own hands if you happened to walk around the corner on one of our many sledding expeditions.

The balcony outside my parents’ bedroom hosted many a scene from Romeo and Juliet. Not to mention ways of “breaking” into the mansion when we inadvertently locked ourselves out while playing Sherlock Holmes.

The ¾ wrap around porch was the arena for all of our olympic skating events, basketball tournaments, circus performances on the metal railings, and hours of sanding and painting.

The plaster walls in our bedrooms became wonderful and exciting archaeological digs for those evenings when sleep wouldn’t come and we were to “entertain” ourselves quietly in our beds.

The dungeon, or root cellar, filled hours of imagination as we crawled through spider webs, mouse droppings, jumped from apple barrel to apple barrel, swung from nylons full of onions, and even nursed baby kittens found under the stairs.

I’m sure my parents never dreamed of the games of hide-and-seek in the dirty clothes in the laundry, racing around the “oval” the stairs made of the outside rooms as we screeched and yelled in games of tag, late nights with the older siblings listening to their stories which at times ended in broken windows, the broken tiles on the roof left as evidence of sneaking from room-to-room not in the house but outside on the overhang, or the wonderful telephone games we would play as we shouted to each other through the heater vents.

My childhood home was filled with smells of baking bread, delicious meals, music, laughter, a flurry of activity, loving parents, quiet moments of reading, gospel study, and happy memories. I love and miss my childhood home – even more now that I need to create one of my own.

Our Crowning Jewels!!

Miffed and sniffing!!!!

I am writing and getting a load off my chest -- I knew there was something there under all of that!!

I all want you to know the reason my blog is boring and pathetic looking. You see, my mentor has taken an unauthorized sabbatical. While I am here sweating and grimacing at this stupid computer, she is home being waited on hand and foot. Let me paint you a picture, thus helping you all feel my pain and suffering.

For a week she had servants selecting her menu, doing the shopping, and literally putting the food right in her body. Laundry??? We won't even go there. Sheets were changed, fresh towels provided, and her pillow plumped on demand. Royalty is what comes to mind when I think of the patience of the attendants even changing her clothes. She didn't even have to change the toilet paper roll. I even heard from the spider on the wall there were times she was so caught up in herself she had the hired help bring the bathroom facilities to her. Talk about first-rate service.

A nice, little, old lady came and would read to her, fix her hair, be her answering service, and even crocheted a blanket that she would wrap herself in.

When it was time for exercise, the machines were brought to her. I also heard from my "spider" that if my mentor decided she was too tired to exercise the hired help would push the machine for her. What will they think of next?

She has since relocated. She got tired of the hired help she originally had and has now moved on. Some people can be so ungrateful. She now lounges in bed and chats with her friends on the Internet. She will tell you she is homebound, but my "spider" told me she was seen carousing around the school during school hours.

So, here I sit. Wallowing in my incompetence. Completely lost and cursing. Don't you feel sorry for me?

Blast from the past!

Last night I decided that I would try my culinary skills and invest in some time and effort in educating my children on the finer things of life. I searched my cookbooks, wrote down ingredients, went to the grocery store, searched the Internet on how to cook said ingredients, and then placed the delicacies in front of my children with a hopeful expression on my face. What could be better than pureed, butternut squash. Yummmy!!!!

Oh, this was going to be good. I could hardly wait for them to scoop the smooth, creamy, yellow vegetable into their watering mouths. The look of shear delight that would beam across their angelic faces as they let the flavors soak into their taste buds. The sounds of satisfaction with this new found taste as they would be asking for more. The suspense was almost killing me, but the anticipation was worth it.

But alas, my bubble was shattered. No looks of enjoyment from their beautiful faces. No ooohs and aaaahhhs as the flavors danced across their tongues. No jumping in line to get more. No praises for the efforts of their bedraggled mother. My ears were assaulted with gagging sounds. And then there were watering eyes, dry heaves, pinched noses, exclamations of disgust, and "Oh, Mom, this is so gross."

At last!!!! I have reached true motherhood. I went, I struggled, and I conquered. I feel true release from all the pain and suffering I felt as a child. I have reached a pinnacle of true bliss. No mother can truly feel the joy of laughing at their children's expense without having suffered first themselves. I feel I have passed on a legacy. From mother, to daughter, and then onto child. The cycle will continue. And . . . . I . . . . have come out the winner!!!! Oh, words cannot explain the deep satisfaction of knowing I have given my children an experience they will never forget. And, here I will now allow myself a cruel chuckle. Bring on the liver -- I can hardly wait!!!!

Remember, keep it simple!!

Do you ever hear the phrases, "You are making things too complicated. Keep it simple."?? How many times have we fretted over a problem or situation only to have a simple solution presented by a third party? Last night was such an occasion.

I love math. It is straight forward, black and white, there is always a solution, and numbers do not lie -- until I went to BYU and learned about imaginary numbers and my world fell apart. But I digress.

Shania was working on finding functions for plotted points on a graph. The short of it is, if you have a number in the y-axis and a number in the x-axis, by finding the function you can find any number on either axis. Sounds simple, right? Actually, it is and I usually have a good time at it.

So, here we were with a bunch of numbers for "y" and a bunch of numbers for "x". Shania and I worked those numbers in so many different ways we were going crazy. After we tried multiplying, dividing, using fractions, exponents, and trying everything again, I finally told her we needed to call her teacher because we were definitely missing something and I was sure it was something simple.

Well, the telephone call was made and as it turns out, it was a simple subtraction problem. It was so simple. I can't wait to see her teacher today and have a good laugh over that one.

Simplicity -- life is simple, the gospel of Jesus Christ is simple, the simplest and easiest route is usually the quickest, problems broken down into simpler situations are easier -- simplicity.

Okay, so now I have to get my butt off this chair, go take a shower, finish getting dinner ready for this evening, finish my telephone calls for church, exercise, finish the laundry, go through my "to-do" list for today which I'm sure includes cleaning of house, get kids' uniforms and everything ready for soccer tonight, pick up kids, have piano lessons, do homework and reading with kids, and . . . . Did I forget anything? Simple!!!!

God's creation

It never ceases to amaze me the beauties that surround us, if we would just open our eyes. I took Shania to Susanville (112 miles) for her soccer game today -- which their team won and she received the praise of her coach as being the only one that played her position perfectly -- brag, brag!!! But that wasn't what I wanted to write about.

As we drove over the mountain, I couldn't get enough of the magnificent, pine trees that lines the road. The leafing trees (I won't pretend that I know any of the names of any of the trees around here) were changing colors and the brilliant golds, reds, and yellows were scattered all through the forests. As I came up over different peaks and saw into the little valleys, I could see small streams or a couple of lakes that were tucked back away from the chaos of the road and cars that zoomed by.

Off in the distance, next to a grove of fallen trees I spotted a couple of deer. One was eating while the other was watching as sentinel.

How can anyone deny that there is a loving Heavenly Father and not marvel at the creation that He placed before us for our enjoyment? How can anyone say that there isn't a purpose for our existence or that we are not the crowning glory of His vast creations?

Yet, it has recently been brought to my attention that both Levi's and PG&E (Pacific Gas & Electric -- the big utility company here) are paying large sums of money to defeat the bill to protect marriage. The opposite of what this bill stands for that will violate the ultimate gift that can be given to all mankind.

When one steps back and looks at the grand scheme of the universe or even the little ant that walks through the grass in the yard, if that person would stop and let the spirit whisper to his heart, there is no denying our Heavenly Father exists, our Saviour, Jesus Christ, helped to create all of this Earth for us, and wants us to return to live with Him again.

A humbling thought when we realize that not only has He given this to us, but He can take it away. I can't imagine the pain our Heavenly Father must feel at the misunderstandings and abuse that we allow the adversary to introduce into our lives.

I'm thankful for those quiet moments when I can reflect on the love of Jesus Christ and the assurance that floods my mind knowing I can have faith in Him and turn to Him, working toward returning to Him someday.

Dad, but I need . . . .

Oh, the injustice. The long explanations and reasoning behind each detail. The mournful pleas and countless ways of trying to explain the same thing. Only to be confronted each time with . . . "Do you NEED it or do you WANT it? Well, in that case, you can't have it." The fastest way to lose it all was to profess the dying need for something.

To the hormone clouded mind, there was no difference. If you want it, doesn't it mean you need it to soothe your feverish desires to fit in and be part of every one else. Of course, every one else had it or was doing it -- that is what it was all about. Never mind the sensibility of each request. The important thing was the need.

How could parents be so insensitive to their children's needs? If they really loved them, the parents would see to it the child had all of those much needed and important things. Yet, in the end, all the kids heard was how much they would thank their parents when they had their own. Yeah, right!!!!

Well, a million years later, here I am and just the other day I about fell off my chair. "Son, do you really NEED it or do you just WANT it? Now, really think about it. What is the truth? Do you need help figuring it out?" Yikes!!! Where did that come from? I swore I would never say or do those things. Alas, the more I "mature" the more I realize how like my parents I am becoming. I thank my Heavenly Father daily that I had good parents that I could become like.

So, good luck kids. You don't have a prayer of a chance. I learned from the best and they say each generation gets better than the last. That should mean I'm just about perfect -- hee, hee!!