Never forget

Holy stink, are Circle K's all frozen in time? I was catapulted back to 1987 this afternoon in the one and only Circle K in Warner Robins, several miles thank you from where I live, paying five dollars for gas. (This is a sad, sad story, the whole $5 thing, for another time.) I stood in line behind a heavyset woman in an oversized jacket with a stringy pony tail and a man's voice buying cigarettes and lottery tickets, and a tall mm, very tall dude with a fro, cap on backwards and team shorts hanging at his calves. Behind me a barrel-chested hairy guy clutching beer and twinkies wandered up. The clerk looked up from the cigarette display and locked onto me with a wink and his handiest grin. Hi there. So. I was pretty darn creeped out. "Five on 1" I said, stepping out behind the guy with the shorts and laying my $5 on the counter. Holy smoke I was 31 again with five babies, paying for gas and cherry Icees on Kemper and Chesterdale Road in Sharonville, OH, smelling the smell that never dies at the Circle K. You live through it but you never forget.

Tickled pink

Debbie Mealey lent me her Sizzix. This is it, a die cutter. You go up and down with the handle to work it.



This is a Sizzix template.



Paper I pasted to old Christmas cards to make tags. Today.



These are the tags. See, the back is white, the Christmas card; the front is the paper.



I made 30, one for each day of April. I'm making a tag book to use starting April 1st. The goal is to journal something on one tag every day, keeping it (uh) very brief.



I cut one of the tags with happy birthday paper. I love April!

Scattywampus header

I have a little more to learn (clearly) about my blog header. The other day I signed into my blog on our PC instead of my laptop where I created the blog banner, and noticed it's not centered on my screen. AGH! Didn't know - has it been looking scattywampus everywhere? Ick. So will you leave me a comment to say if it's centered for you - please? Help!

I have a cold - just hanging around listening to HGTV and sniffing and now I have a headache. It's getting worse, not better. Worked on a scrap page for Landon, needed to get one of him two years or older. Well I got the page done and e-mailed it to Erin and as we talked I realized - dang it - he's only 15 months old in the picture, not two - the pic ISN'T of last Christmas, but the year before. I posted it anyway on my sidebar under his one year-old scrap page, and though I like the page a lot I'm sad I still don't have him up to his age. Another page another day. Sigh. Andrew's next! Hang in there Amy and Dan, I'll get him. Gosh, Dana may have Garrett before I get Andrew on board on my blog. Hope not though. I love my boys, LOVE them. Talked to Joseph this morning and he sang This is the way the cowboys ride and the ABC song. Mostly while he watched Elmo on tv I think. Brady and I talked the day before - Brad called me finally when he couldn't get Jenny, Scott, or Erin at home for Brady to talk to on the way home from daycare - I was here so he got to talk to me. He told me about his hat, his coat, his guitar, and his ants. The ones that bit him on the finger when he was here. We talk about that pretty much every time. Andrew had the phone several days ago but mainly tried to eat it. Haven't talked to Landon, though when I talk to Abbie I hear him in the background. I think he doesn't remember me. Well, for scrapbooking it's a good thing I have lots of BOY papers and ideas.

Well thanks for helping me out, and take a peek at cute Landon on the side bar. It's fun to blog and know you visit me; some days I'm so lonely for you that I'm sad. Today I'm not sad but longing to connect. Say prayers for Katy in the hospital and Marcia who has Lucy in Twin, and Tyler McGee home alone; Aunt Sarah who's planning a wedding and reception in a few short weeks and Adrienne getting ready to be a bride; Jen who may be flying to Dallas for job interviews, etc.; Emily who's close to having their baby, a time that's so darn hard to manage; Jamie (are you in Boston girl?), nannying; Synthia working her tail off in REAL estate; Shayla just getting used to YW and Laura who's teaching her; Shana and Justin who work hectic jobs and lead out, and in quiet times (and all the time) miss Lily so much; Gaby in her new house getting organized; Erin feeling sick most days early in her pregnancy and still keeping up; Dana changing from working and having Brady in daycare with fun friends to staying home most days, 5.5 months pregnant; Grandpa with his rib healing and him and Grandma busy at the temple, tired; Mary Ellen in Spokane, also expecting and far away; me with my cold today; Kaylee who's probably got senioritis (can't confirm, but betcha! I love you Kaylee); and Amy who's little niece, Janey, has been in the hospital since she was born prematurely to her sister, Melanie Sorenson, and whose tiny life remains every day a matter of prayer. I've left someone out surely - Amy and Chris in school in Provo; Scott driving around SL every day for his job; Stan, Sky and Sam, the Smoot crew; Dan Hale, surely one of my favorite friends in the whole world; Eric three months from coming off his mission, Chris and Whitney Nielson and Dan McKasson (and Scott too) in the school grind, and Dave finishing up high school in Twin; and Brad and Sharm and Glen and Brent and Chris and Karen (and Spencer, Andrew and Ben) and Mark and Valerie and Marc, and Kent, all for good measure. If I've left you out, e-mail me! Love you so much (sniff sniff), Nat

Love, actually

Kim Wresh's blog is another site I lurk (to use Jenny's word) around. She posts about once a week, so her post about her Easter activities, including her testimony of the Savior, is a couple of days late but worth reading to me. I scrolled down and down and discovered she's the ward YW camp director and is busy now with fundraising. Down and down and among scrapbook thingies she works on, gives away as freebies, sells, chats about; among layouts she's scrapped and posts she shares of others' work; and among tidbits about her family, is this. ANOTHER REASON I AM LUCKY TO HAVE MR. WRESH:

Last week I woke up early and was sitting in the rocker in the loft. Mr. Wresh was downstairs getting ready to leave for work. The house was dark and quiet and he was unaware I was sitting at the top of the stairs. I heard him unlock the door and then pause and whisper, "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you" and then he went out the door. I knew he was whispering I love you...one for each of us...before he left the house even though he had already come and given everyone kisses while we all slept. Later that evening when I told him I had heard his farewell, he said, "That way I know 'I love you' is always the last thing I said to you all."

I know. I am lucky.

How cool. I love love. Especially any time someone goes out of their way for you - Kim's hubby kissed everyone while they slept. Someone who:

1. Keeps a night light on in the bathroom.
2. Pushes the full dumpster to the curb every week.
3. Gets a serving spoon out of the utensil drawer when you forgot to put it on the table.
4. Changes the temperature controls in the car to FRIGID when you're having a hot flash, suddenly and without complaining.
5. Pays hundreds $$$ for airline tickets to visit kids and grandkids, then goes without you for a month.
6. Walks around and turns off the lamp on your side of the bed when you're too tired.
7. (More?) Is softspoken in a disagreement.
8. Keeps tabs on the bills, batteries, air filters, weeds and pests.
9. Holds you a long time when you cry and laughs when you're funny.
10. Holds your hand in church.

And a thousand things. Grocery shops with you or doesn't care if you channel surf. So look for who loves you - however it shows up. Look hard if you're skeptical, and (my point is) noticing will change everything. Lucky, yes, we all are actually.

{Check} THIS out . . . you'll smile.

Spring Break "TO DO' List

Done and done.

Check this out

Here's an awesome site called FreeRice.com. For every multiple choice vocabulary word you get right, FreeRice.com will donate 20 grains of rice to the World Food Program. Very cool little device, eh. How smart are you? Urban Legends, if you're interested, confirms this is true.

Rocks in the jar

For all you readers out there in blogland, Shayla Smoot has a top 10 Fave Books list I love, starting with the Book of Mormon: by lots of prophets. Shayla, you're the best for having that at the top of the list. I admire you.

There's lots to do this morning. We made Resurrection Rolls in Seminary - Linda headed up this Easter lesson using crescent roll dough, marshmallows (thinking of you Jenny), and melted butter and cinnamon-sugar. All seventeen kids came practically, and we were cheek to cheek in the kitchen if you know what I mean. Kids lined the table and counters rolling crescent dough around buttered, sugared marshmallows, sealing them and putting them on cookie sheets to bake. Linda had scripture mastery time with the kids in the living room then while the rolls "rose." (Ahem.)

So after, the kitchen was a mess - btw, the kids each found their own roll on the pan and enjoyed it after class. The dough represents the cloth the Savior's body was wrapped in after his crucifixion; the marshmallow, Jesus himself. Butter, oils of embalming, and sugar, the spices to anoint his body. Oven is the tomb and after 10-12 minutes at 350 degrees (3 days) the rolls are out and the body is discovered to be gone! Poof! They taste great. (Mini cinnamon rolls.)

The kitchen is messy. So, reminded of another object lesson I've seen and used lots, I've put my first rocks in my day's "jar." I've read scriptures, both preparing for another seminary lesson and with Kent, and I've cleaned up the kitchen. There's a bunch of things to do to get ready to go work in the temple this weekend, and the morning's gotta go for that. Big rocks. There's many things I want to do, however; always. Look at e-mail and blogs and go walking and go to town, get the car washed. I want to read A New Earth which I bought a couple of weeks ago and is calling my name! I want to scrapbook and, well, just play. Pebbles and sand.

I'm a pebbles and sand person, I think. Too often putting little things in my day ahead of what matters most and, naturally, in that order, it doesn't all fit. Sigh here. I know better. I do better when I remember the lesson. I'm begging the Lord lately to help me with major things: Eat clean; keep moving; and keep putting first things very first. I admit. First to read scripture. First to right messes and make things better. First to think of others. First to do what I promised. This morning (like others, lately) has been a good start to a promising day, and every day I think is an opportunity. Thanks, Shayla, for reminding me what to keep at the top of the list.

first day of spring? or tomorrow?

3rd day eating very well
walked 40 minutes
studied html editing online - like i'm in school, or what - included sites on de.li.cious
new blog header
full moon at 5:00 a.m. getting newspaper off the driveway
seminary lesson ready for monday jeremiah 1-4; jotted down what to do for class activity when it came to me - inspiration
plants watered
drove mckinley, kathryn and sarah to high school
talked to erin, jen, amy about morning sickness, vacation in july, giving blood
towels washed
ooohed and aaahed over shayla's new blog - amazing! link on right sidebar under "blogs"
hair colored and trimmed
caught up on three magazines under the dryer
stretched; eyed the zucchini bread while i did
discussed seminary with linda, co-teacher
checked fridge for leftovers for kent's dinner - i'm eating at the r.s. birthday party tonight!

Terrell's poem from seminary yesterday:
I start to feel sad when I think of this,
You hanging there on a crucifix.
But as my heart grows and learns
I see that it was for our concern.
You bleed, you died, you gave your life,
And that's why I'm glad that you're my Christ.

Writing poetically, like Isaiah

Our lesson this morning was Isaiah 53, what the Lord suffered right before and during the Atonement. Pretty well timed with Easter. We read the chapter out loud then I asked everyone to be like Isaiah and write poetically, write about how it made them feel. Some used imagery from the verses. Everyone, almost, shared and I was in tears as class ended. Here are the poems - the kids said I could post them. The number by their names is their school grade.

Anna: 9
Drops of blood spilled for me;
Bruised and beaten, falling to his knees.
And as I read, the sorrow I feel,
But "with his stripes we are healed."

Nicole: 9
The savior was a man of sorrows
Acquainted with grief.
He offers us hope,
Joy and peace.

Titus: 10
Worthy is the Lamb, the Lord God
Who through trial and affliction trod.
Bare he such terrible sins
So that we might live with him again.
He loved us so he gave his life
He gave us repentance, He is our Christ.

Sarah: 9
He suffered beyond anything I've ever felt;
He knows my pain, he knows my guilt.
Beyond bleeding, beyond sweat
For the sins I have done, my Savior wept.

McKinley: 9
The pain he went through I don't even know...
He sweated his blood from his head to his toe.
He suffered for me and he suffered for you,
We need to remember that, even you too.

The Atonement is special, he did it for us.
Even for little tiny kids who like to make a fuss.
He loves us so much to do something like that,
So to him I would like to take off my hat.

He had all the pain of the world on his back,
Gratitude for him is something I do lack. . .
Why he had to do it, I know not why,
I love him and I thank him, and I cannot lie.

Becky: 11
He was, He did,
He became; what we
Could not do.
Until we have "proven worthy
Of His sacrifice divine,
Let us then regain His presence;
Let His glory round us shine." (from Hymn #172)

Michelle: 12
I sit and complain of the life I have,
All things I've had to deal with; even being sad.
But I remind myself of what the Savior did,
Putting everything on the line, giving all he could give.
Feeling the pains I've put onto myself
As well as the pains people gave me in such a wealth,
I look at myself and all I can see
Is that I am not grateful enough for someone as he.

Brandi: 9
He was bruised for our iniquities,
He felt our cries and knows our pleas.
He was wounded for our transgressions
Yet among us there is still much tension.
The chastisement of our peace was upon him,
And we still don't have full hearts turned towards him.

Terrell, 10, Kathryn, 10, and Ian, 12, were in class and two of them wrote, however didn't share or post. Well, Terrell did at the end, and what a great poem! (Shy about posting.) I love that everyone participated this morning; love the feeling in the room as most of them shared. I love every one of the students in my class and especially honor those that struggle to attend and participate regularly. It's one of the difficult things they do to follow the Savior. Today we learned how the Savior struggled with the Atonement and I honor his commitment to do, himself, His own very (very) difficult thing.

Natalie
I think of the Savior,
The suffering he's had.
He hurts when I hurt,
He's sad when I'm sad.

I know I'm his daughter
And he wants me to be
Like him, and with him
Eternally.

Photo essay

Morning



The last pecan



Peach tree pinks



I looked out the window and (you know the rest), popcorn popping on the Bradford Pear tree. (autumn below, about Thanksgiving)



Bradford Pear



Blueberry



Dandelion



Tea Olive



Lorapetalum



Mexican Heather



Texas Red Lantana


Verbena



Clematis



Garlic



Rosemary



Hollyhocks (seed from the garden in Centerville, UT)



Blue Hydrangea



Yoshino Cherry

Happy Birthday, Joseph! Wow, you're three!

Birthday boys

Happy Birthday, Brady! You were born on your dad's due date!

Dear Jen, Erin and Mike, Brad and Dana, Dan and Amy and Scott:

or whoever is happening by . . .

All over again I'm finding out I have it in me to "go home," so to speak. I can't tell you how many times I think about Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz and her red clicky shoes, uh ruby slippers. Let me just say I don't like the Wizard of Oz, no, no, no! It came on every February in the 60's when I was a kid - I watched it when I was really little, but it made me way nervous. When it was still coming on in the 70's, I remember once sitting at a card table making a puzzle around the corner from the television so I could hear it with the family but didn't have to see it. I was afraid of the tornado, deeply bothered by the wicked witch and terrified of her taking Toto, bugged by the munchkins, confused by the wizard (a little man from Kansas with a hot air balloon?), and petrified of the flying monkeys. Not to mention the scarecrow was jumpy, the tin man's eyes kind of spacy (I didn't love that guy), and the lion just goofy with a capital Goof. (I did love his tail). Did I mention the flying monkeys? Well. I mostly liked the part (phew!) where Dorothy clicks her heels together and says, "I do believe in spooks. I do believe in spooks. I do - I do - " (No! That was the lion.) "There's no place like home. There's no place like home," clicks those heels together and is SAFELY, thank you, with Toto, out of a nightmare of a situation. Even in color that show is a mess.

For something I've been this nervous about, it's sure stuck with me. In about the last five years I've declared I'm rusting like the tin man. (Unwittingly I guess I'm sending this idea into the universe, huh, and it'll come back . . yikes.) So I stretch. Before, I walked and walked, and walked about a hundred pounds off me in a decade, but haven't stretched much. Lately because I don't love old age and have great empathy for the make-believe space-cadet tin man of the Wizard of Oz, I've been stretching morning and night. I shall not rust to the spot! No.

And I certainly over the years have remembered Dorothy and appreciated that, like she discovered almost too, too late, we have it in us to find our way home.

That said, I'm all over again finding it out. And how old am I? And how far from (heavenly) home have I come? It's in me to be happy (click, click), unseparate from my truest home, you - thoughts of home are thoughts of you. Not where you are, but you. There's no place like you! There's no place like you. I love the words to a song by Crystal Gayle, when I dream, I dream of you. Maybe some day you will come true. As I scrap pictures of Abbie, Joseph, Landon, Brady and Andrew lately and post them, I'm blown away by how (click, click) close I feel to each child. No kidding. Working with their pictures literally is closing the miles between us. Literally, I'm holding each child. My heart beats rapidly as I perceive each's spirit, separately and by way of photograph. It's like this with you, my own children, besides. It's a way to manage having been picked up by a whirlwind of events and thumped down in Georgia, here dealing with "comrads" (life) of nebulous nature and unknown to me in the longest run. Being here, and you being there, we can all tap into our connection with each other when we focus in the exact right place. I'm focusing on praying for you in most specific ways. Reading the scriptures, studying them, gathering power. Watching your blogs and scrapping your pictures.

And being the best I can be, here, right here where I am. Click. Click.

Happy Birthday, Mom! Here's a happy wish and special thank you:


As I Look Back --author unknown

As I look back on my life
I find myself wondering.....
Did I remember to thank you
for all that you have done for me?
For all of the times you were by my side
to help me celebrate my successes
and accept my defeats?

Or for teaching me the value of hard work,
good judgement, courage, and honesty?

I wonder if I've ever thanked you for the simple things...
The laughter, smiles, and quiet times we've shared?

If I have forgotten to express my gratitude
For any of these things,
I am thanking you now....
and I am hoping that you've known all along,
how very much you are loved and appreciated.

Happy Birthday, Brad!

I went walking today, almost three miles! Finally. Hooray! I did it! Huffing and puffing and all that. The fun never ends. So, you should be here to see the blooms starting on the Bradford Pears around the neighborhood - ornamental trees that do not, in fact, bear pears, but blossoms like cotton. Branches have been budding for several weeks and I think these buds were so pregnant they had to pop today! The trees are amazing, and I'm in awe every year at spring in Georgia. Redbud and forsythia - ah, God made it so we can't really describe it. Seems like it was yesterday I was celebrating my anniversary in cold January, thankful no birds were shrilling and cawing in the tree limbs over our house - now there's bird-twitter and squirrel chatter morning and night, and breezes bring tea olive smell across the porches. The sun is out steadily now, not just on a whim, and I've shucked my jacket inside the house. Pad around here in capris and berks most afternoons. I'm insanely happy to be shedding layers, and hope to shed more than a few pounds.

Love this video on making a difference by your service (link).

Well, I’m back to making better choices. Man I hate the bottomless pit of life. Sink holes and pitfalls and junk. I had the thought a minute ago that everything I’ve touched in the last two hours is flourishing. Because I’m raising the bar? Happier thoughts? I made bread earlier, dumped in the last of the multi-grain hot cereal Kent and I didn’t eat this morning, left over pinto beans and half the butter (Smart Balance butter spread, really), and of course salt and flour and yeast – and it’s rising, amazingly, and baking and smelling wonderful. Sometimes my bread goes flat or doesn’t rise, about like I feel most days. Correlation? I signed March birthday cards and walked Brad’s to the mailbox and saw Regina, of all things, sitting on her porch with coffee and a book. Who’s been able to do that in the last month? So, hey, I got to see my friend. The ibuprofen I took an hour ago completely fixed my sciatic pain (thank you thank you thank you) and I just worked on Nutrigrain bars from Jessica Seinfeld’s cookbook which call for pureed spinach and blueberry preserves. I used Splenda, oat flour made from whole oats ground in my Magic Bullet in place of white flour, cinnamon, salt, and baking powder for the crust, and (reduced in a sauce pan on the stove a few minutes) whole strawberries, strawberry preserves and Kent’s mother’s bottled grape jam, plus the pureed spinach for the filling. You gotta try these, they’re WAY good. Dana will tell you, we made blueberry last week. My dishwasher’s going and I’ve laid out ground turkey patties for lunch and pulled onion rolls from the freezer. I have in mind spicy mustard and lettuce for condiments, and carrot sticks instead of Tostitos. Granola bars for dessert. Is it ridiculous to think about meals ahead of time, especially when you’re committed again to eating healthy and not grazing in between, and visualize condiments? Maybe. Probably, but it makes me happy. We get to fast starting later today, so dinner’s at 4:00 and I’m already . . . oh, who cares. There’s a few ruts today: I have to mop a WAY dirty kitchen floor and run the vacuum and dust, things I didn’t do yesterday because my hip is out, and call my visiting teaching companion and apologize for not making it to our appointment yesterday. I completely forgot it. I've got scads of green onions to mince for freezing from our garden - Kent'll be ready to harvest the things any minute. They make me cry, so we've got to actually stand outside in the sunshine to do the work. That's a bad thing, huh!