"Rilla" two.

I had to pass these along. I don't know how one person can have 10 (nearly 11) of the most beautiful, charming, intelligent, and lovable grandchildren on the planet. I must have done something right before I came here to be so blessed. By the way, who does the little imp in the middle remind you of? Hmmmm. . .
My finals went well and I can't tell you what a faith promoting experience my math class was. I came away with an A in that class and it was not through any brilliance on my part. I was carried through that one, like I am in all of my classes. It is incredible what can happen when we have the Lord on our side.
Merry Christmas to each and every one of you and know that you are thought of with love in St. George.

Can you tell what is on my mind? My last final is tomorrow and it is in - you guessed it - math. I have been calling on heavenly tech support all semester and I have to say their customer service is awesome!

Good Friends at "Best Friends."

Some of our very good friends from the temple are Betty and Truman Lynch. They live in Kanab, so on my day off school we decided to go for a visit. They were wonderfully hospitable and showed us all the local sights. One place they took us was called "Best Friends Animal Sanctuary." Some type of group bought a huge section of Kanab canyon and turned it into a posh animal shelter and cemetery. Betty went up once to adopt a puppy for her grandson but was not admitted because she didn't have an appointment. She was sent away with the proper forms to fill out and told to call and arrange for a time to be interviewed. The papers were as in-depth as adoption papers for a baby and even required that one of the employees come and inspect the prospective home. Needless to say, she went to the local animal shelter and picked up a dog. The cemetery was something to see. It was a huge, landscaped, wind-chime filled park complete with alcoves for urns to hold doggie's (or kitty's) dusty remains. Now, don't get me wrong - I happen to be a pet lover, as my kids can attest to, but by the looks of the organizer's home located in the distance this pet sanctuary is BIG business. It also is a very secretive enterprise and leads one to wonder if fido is a ruse for something much larger. Employees come from all over the world and never fraternize with the locals. Since the establishment of "Best Friends" a curiously all women development is building up just outside the city limits. Hummm. . .
All in all, we had a memorable time and I would encourage anyone to go out of their way to visit this lovely little Utah town.

This weekend was the annual St. George marathon and it was a memorable one. Friday night Barry Johnson, Garth Masterson, and Jerry (a friend of Barry's who has run - and won his division in most- 80 marathons) came over for a carb-loading dinner. We had a great time eating and watching the Louisiana/Utah game. David/Emily, and Jonathan/Gina got here about 9:30, had a bite to eat and we all headed to bed. Saturday was Kent's 20th St. George marathon and he was so pleased to have accomplished this goal. On our way there David found out, first hand, how nice (and forgiving) the St. George police are. The weather was a perfect fall day, with just a nip in the air. Kent looked fabulous as he crossed the finish line. Later, we all attended the Runner's dinner where they recognized the 10 , 20 , and 30 year runners. It was nice (a little underwhelming for such an accomplishment!) but the company was what made it wonderful. We went to Kristen's for a while to play Wii and David/Jonathan got hooked on the boxing. Emily, Gina, and I excelled at bowling (my humility is showing - you'd think I was a guy!). Kristen had a house full of company (24 while we were there and everyone was staying overnight except us) so we didn't stay too long. Dinner with the kids on Sunday and General Conference added icing to a scrumptious weekend. Congratulations Kent! You are one incredible man (and sexy too - just ask Gina!)

Reflections on my Math Test

How did my test go, you ask? Well, suffice it to say that I now have something in common with Edison. Unfortunately it is not in the intelligence department. Edison said that he never had a failure, just a multitude of opportunities to find a way it doesn't work. Well, I had the same success on my last math exam. Nearly half the answers were new revelations on how numbers shouldn't be combined. To put it simply - my light went out. How can I be so philosophical about the first test in my life that I have actually failed? Well, this is only the first test that was graded by a fellow human being that I have ever failed. I think there have been many instances where my heavenly professors are shaking their heads and wondering aloud -"do you think she will ever really get it?" Hopefully the Lord allows a lot of extra credit. Hmmm....do you think that is where the Atonement fits in?

The Nelson family recently gave me a gift certificate to Bear Mill - St. George's version of Build a Bear. We went there for Chelsea's birthday and had a great time. I had recently visited the Golden Compass site and found that my daemon is a fox, so naturally, that is what we built. Kristen named her Roxy the Foxy Coed and we put a little letterman's jacket on her. I bought the DSC pin and Dixie College socks at the bookstore and she now adorns my bookcase sitting next to her hiking bear counterpart. I haven't received the words of wisdom that a daemon is supposed to supply but she brings me a lot of joy. She reminds me of the fun part of this school experience, and as my stomach has a tendency to knot up Sunday nights in anticipation of the looming school week, I need that.

Sometimes Do You Think You Have To Do It All?

I think that this picture just about sums up my first couple of weeks back in school. I have been overwhelmed and ready to quit because the load was not only heavy, but incomprehensible as well (I have a college algebra class and I could swear it was being taught in a foreign language). Upon self-reflection, blended with a fast, I realized that I had left the One who really does put the sun in the sky, out of the equation. I am not here to do it all myself and this moment in my life is less than the blink of an eternal eye. I probably had similar panicky feelings as I began 7th grade, kindergarten, or even learned to walk. I read in Corinthians today that "So then neither is he that planteth any thing, neither he that watereth; but God that giveth the increase." My professors plant the seed, I water with study - but ultimately it is the Lord who gives me understanding.
I can sit here safely in my office this beautiful Sabbath evening, basking in the afterglow of a Spirit-filled day and wonder how I ever feared. The trick will be to retain these feelings as I face my Algebra exam on Tuesday, Grammar exam on Wednesday (tell me again what an adverb is?), and Geography exam on Thursday (how many degrees does earth tip on its axis from the elliptical plane?).
I will post a picture reflective of my success in the future. Meanwhile, I keep chanting my mantra - and this too shall pass.

The Stranger

A few years after I was born, my Dad met a stranger who was new to our small town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our family. The stranger was quickly accepted and was around from then on.

As I grew up, I never questioned his place in my family. In my young mind, he had a special niche. My parents were complementary instructors: Mom taught me good from evil, and Dad taught me to obey. But the stranger. . . he was our storyteller. He would keep us spellbound for hours on end with adventures, mysteries and comedies.

If I wanted to know anything about politics, history or science, he always knew the answers about the past, understood the present and even seemed able to predict the future! He took my family to our first major league ball game.

He made me laugh, and he made me cry. The stranger never stopped talking, but Dad didn't seem to mind. Sometimes, mom would get up quietly while the rest of us were shushing each other to listen to what he had to say, and she would go to the kitchen for peace and quiet (I wonder now if she ever prayed for the stranger to leave.)

Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions, but the stranger never felt obligated to honor them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home,... not from us, our friends or any visitors. Our longtime visitor, however, got away with four-letter words that burned my ears and made my dad squirm and my mother blush.

My Dad didn't permit the liberal use of alcohol, but the stranger encouraged us to try it on a regular basis. He made cigarettes look cool, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished. He talked freely (much too freely!) about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing.

I now know that my early concepts about relationships were influenced strongly by the stranger. Time after time, he opposed the values of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked and NEVER asked to leave.

More than fifty years have passed since the stranger moved in with our family. He has blended right in and is not nearly as fascinating as he was at first. Still, if you could walk into my parents' den today, you would still find him sitting over in his corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures.

His name? We just call him "TV." He has a younger sister now. We call her "Computer".

Faster Than A Speeding Bullet

There is nothing more beautiful than Ivins on a cool summer morning. I am the first to admit that exercise consistency is not my strong suit, so Kent needed to document this event.

My Favorite People in this World and the Next

This group would be perfect - Bryce and Bambina are even there tucked safely away - except we are missing Grace, Ethan, and Chris :( I love you all and thank you for indulging Dad and I for this family photo shoot. You will understand one day why this is so priceless to us.

Tagged, I'm It - But What is IT?

The old phrase "better late than never" may not apply here, but this is my tag anyway. Now I can sleep at night.

4 Jobs I’ve Had

1- Assistant Butcher

2- Receptionist/Secretary at place that sells electronic innards

3- Snack Bar hostess at roller-skating rink

4- Maker of babies (maybe I really shouldn’t classify that as a job – sorry Kent)

4 Movies I Can Watch Over and Over

1- Friendly Persuasion

2- Pride and Prejudice (the five hour job)

3- Emma

4- Shrek 2 (I know, there is a bit of dichotomy here [look it up, I am in school and have to use it or lose it]. Maybe it’s the line “I love the ogre I married” that gets me – sorry Kent . . .again).

4 Places I’ve Lived

1- Redondo Beach

2- Davis County – Bountiful/Centerville/Farmington

3- Salt Lake County – Sandy/West Jordan

4- Ivins

4 Places I’ve Been

1- CA, from San Diego to San Francisco

2- Hawaii – thanks to Thompson’s

3- Ohio

4- New York, state - not city.

4 Favorite Foods

1- Not candied yams

2- Not oysters

3- Not liver

4- Everything else

4 Websites I Visit Every Day

1- Dixie College Homepage

2- Gmail

3- Google Search

4- Blogs

4 Places I’d Rather Be

1- Hawaii with family

2- Cabin with family

3- Beach with family

4- With family

4 People I Want to Tag

1- Cami Ellis

2- Hillary Kirschman

3- Amber Thompson

4- Kent Cook

Not too exciting a life, but I have absolutely loved it and hope it is only half over.

p.s. - could someone please teach me how you fit your pictures in so nicely, sometimes framed, and sometimes even in a slide show?

Rear Window

Diane Cobey was in for a visit and, as St. George is now the proud possessor of a professional baseball team and the co-owner’s wife sits next to me in class and offered free tickets, we went to a Roadrunners game. Arriving late because of a field mix-up, I backed into the first available spot and we hurried in. Unease brushed by as I watched one of the foul balls fly in the general direction of my car. Surely they wouldn’t put a parking lot close enough that cars could get hit, I reasoned in my baseball naiveté, and settled back to enjoy the game and the company. After the third high-flying foul I decided, just for peace of mind, to move my car. As I got to the parking lot, which I must add has no warning signs of any kind, I found my sweet little car nestled between to huge pseudo-protective SUV’s with its back window smashed out and a small white baseball lying innocently among the shards of glass. Diane took pictures; I fumed. The assistant manager, (a used to be football coach with “cowboy-up” oozing out his ears) was a perverse kind of sympathetic. “Shouldn’t park there (duh!), it’s the foul zone. Hope you have good insurance,” he says as he laughs, like having the back window smashed out of your brand new car was some type of lark. I brought my injured car and parked it at the front entrance, right in the no-parking zone, and mentally dared anyone to challenge me. I sinfully took pleasure at the adverse publicity I hoped I was creating. Diane, Kent, and I got it cleaned up and went back in to watch our team get slaughtered. Reno got 9 runs the inning we came back in. I like to think it was heaven wreaking justice on a heartless management, discounting the fact that the fledgling team’s record is 2 and 12. $300 insurance dollars later my car is almost as good as new. The back deck is scarred up a bit, but you know the old saying – “chicks dig scars,” which just goes to prove once again that I am no chick, spring or otherwise.

I Am So Grateful for Fathers.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY

These four men bless my life immeasurably;
never to be repaid but always to be loved.

And What to My Wondering Eyes Should Appear

When I awoke a few days ago, this vision presented itself in my front window. I thought "Oh, it's a boat." Kent said "That is some boat." He then proceeded to point out what I, in my ignorance, had missed. Two Viper V10 engines, all leather interior, tri-hulled, sleek aerodynamic design, and speed speed speed. He talked to our neighbor who said, with a sigh, "Yeah, it's my son's and he says it will do 100 on the water." Having sons that own bullet bikes, we understood the sigh. Kent was impressed; I saw a flaming leather lined coffin. Our personal world truly is subjective.

Neighbors

I live at the mouth of a southwest canyon so our neighbors tend to be a little unusual. This gila monster was sunning itself on a nearby patio when the owner (which in itself is a subjective term; who was there first?) decided his territory was being invaded and the monster would have to go. We regularly have quail, lizards, roadrunners, and rabbits. Kent sees the shyer side of the desert, such as tarantulas, turtles, and some large creature with glowing eyes which followed him down the trail during his 4 am run. I would love to see those residents, but they don't regularly visit my kitchen or office. I guess I really do need to get out more often. I will, just as soon as I finish this home work (which I am feeling guilt plagued about as I write this frivolous blog) and get dinner ready. Meanwhile, I will live a vicariously exciting life through the eyes, feet, and camera of my adventurous husband.

Cool8Mom Signing On