Booooooo on Halloween

Yay! Today is here and in three states six of my grandkids are going trick or treating with their moms and dads and grandmas maybe. Hoping the seventh will put in his appearance at the hospital tonight.

Just so I wouldn't be sad I kept the kids' past Halloween pictures, and a few that got sent this year even, in front of me and scrapped my heart out. Here's the gallery -2x click to see up close. Happy Halloween, and bring in a haul ya'll.

Heart-warming 2

I recently posted something kind of heart warming. (link) (he he) This is even more. Courtney Jane's blog is being published. Into a book (link)! Like I mentioned in a way earlier post, Jenny put me on to Courtney's blog, and I haven't paid exactly the strictest attention the last few months. More I've let Jen fill me in since C's sister Stephanie and her husband Christian



were injured in a plane crash in August. Now my interest is really piqued peeked!

Here's a blurb from the editor's (as a guest on Courtney's blog) announcement about the publication:

And if you can handle even more good news, get a load of this: All royalties will go to benefit Nie Nie [Stephanie]. So when you curl up in bed with a cup of cocoa and this collection of c jane's quirks and quips, you'll have an extra-big warm fuzzy knowing you're lightening the burdens of one amazing woman.

This is inspired! Surely Courtney has been inspired, writing, sharing on a public blog for a few years now in so appealing a way that it will be published and sold, and the money donated to her brother-in-law and sister. I hope lots of people will check it out. I'm going to.

A note: If you DO curl up in bed with a cup of cocoa, remember to try pumpkin-spiced. Ciao.

Happy Birthday, Dad

This is one of my favorite photos of you at twenty-something. Wish I knew the story behind it. Have a happy day. I'll call you. Love ya!

I'm always intrigued when I see these lists like this below on people's blogs. I don't love the whole tagging thing and this isn't that. Just a few incidentals for a pretty darn early Saturday morning.

I am: Natalie
I think: about people’s suffering
I know: my religious beliefs are true
I want: to help people feel and be better
I have: my own little playground in my mind
I dislike: drivers on my tail
I miss: 135 lbs
I fear: being blind and deaf to the spirit
I feel: thoughtful
I hear: the clock ticking in the living room
I smell: applesauce cake
I crave: applesauce cake
I cry: when I talk about hard things; when I hear powerful music; when I say goodbye; when my teeth hurt
I usually: wake at 4:42
I search: for my glasses a lot
I wonder: when the Millenium will come
I regret: not being a better mother
I wish: I could visit my kids and grandkids every day
I love: Jesus Christ and his gospel
I care: about workability
I always: substitute ingredients in recipes
I worry: about the economy
I am not: easily offended
I remember: what mom tells me about being a solid link between my ancestors and descendents so we’ll be together forever
I believe: in miracles, absolutely
I sing: parts with my seminary students every morning
I don't always: clean up my messes right away
I argue: with myself when I am trying to make a decision
I write: to let you know me
I win: at Scattergories hands down, and Scrabble most of the time
I lose: at card games, always
I listen: to audio books in the car
I don't understand: math
I can usually be found: at the computer
I need: to get a degree
I forget: sometimes, how insecure we all are
I am happy: when I wear comfortable shoes
I am: grateful

----
Maybe you'll like these (linky) goodies! They look yummy.

Heart-warming

So how's'about this for a cozy concoction. Pumpkin Spice Hot Cocoa! Easy-peasy.

It's raining. Hard. Remember I said we'd be missing the barbecue tonight? Yes, we will.

Here’s the recipe - serves six.

6 cups of milk
6 packets of powdered hot chocolate OR ½ lb. of dark chocolate bits
1 1/2 tbsp. pumpkin pie spice
Lots of whipped cream
Cinnamon

Heat milk to almost boiling. Place hot chocolate mix into mugs and mix in thoroughly ¼ tbsp. of the pumpkin pie spice. Pour in hot milk and stir well. Load on the whip cream. Sprinkle cinnamon on top. Enjoy!

Philosophical

Do you ever just wake up and wonder, gee how did I get here? I was talking to myself in a southern accent while I unloaded the dishwasher. I laughed right out loud. Jenny if she heard me would raz me straight to death. But Jenny's in Dallas.

Jenny's in Dallas! Soon she'll be talking southern! I think about it. Whoa! Does she like it there? She probably shakes her head some days and thinks, how did I get here? It's gotta happen.

Erin just called driving home from a doctor's appointment. Ugh, she says. No change. (Due date Nov 6, hoping to induce Oct 31.) No change means no inducing next weekend probably, too much risk for the baby and her. She's frustrated and sort of philosophical. I told her she'll be pregnant forever.

Our High Priest group yearly barbecue is rained out for the second weekend in a row. Dan Boland does great chicken. I'll miss it.

If

It's only a little afte 8:00 and I'm pooped! I love trundling off to bed by 9:00.

If I were a song, I'd be ... somewhere over the rainbow
If I were a month, I'd be ... april
If I were a weekday, I'd be ... tuesday
If I were a time of the day, I'd be ... six a.m.
If I were a planet, I'd be ... earth
If I were a direction, I'd be ... east
If I were a piece of furniture, I'd be ... a rocking chair
If I were a sport, I'd be ... volleyball
If I were a fun thing to do, I'd be ... scrabble
If I were a moment, I'd be ... a kiss on the lips
If I were anything liquid, I'd be ... rainwater
If I were a precious stone, I'd be ... sapphire
If I were a tree, I'd be ... a quaking aspen
If I were a flower, I'd be ... plumbago
If I were a musical instrument, I'd be ... a hand bell
If I were a color, I'd be ... periwinkle
If I were an emotion, I'd be ... wonder
If I were a spice, I'd be ... basil
If I were an animal, I'd be ... a bunny
If I were a fruit, I'd be ... a raspberry
If I were one of the elements, I'd be ... air
If I were a book, I'd be ... Little Britches
If I were a character, I'd be ... Winnie the Pooh
If I were a dish, I'd be ... coconut cream pie
If I were a place, I'd be ... the temple
If I were an object, I'd be ... a bicycle
If I were a movie, I'd be ... Testaments
If I were a gesture, I'd be ... a wink

Just a thought.

"So thy succor shall be"

"As thy days may demand, as thy days may demand, as they days may demand . . ."
I'm singing along with MoTab,



making Erin's friend Melissa's very good carrot cake in the kitchen this Sunday morning,



always a happy spot,



and they're coming to the end of verse three of How Firm a Foundation. I can't remember the end, though, hello! The choir's getting there. I know it, I know it...  time warp, and they go s .o .o .o... slow and I'm thinking and thinking and, hm, "as thy days may demand..." what?

It's weird how your brain waves or whatever can dart out light speed away from what you're hearing and, I don't know, dream? Calculate? (Re-index? No, you do that when you sleep.) Hunt and peck, that's it. My neurons were firing like mad searching the lyric while MoTab was getting closer. Funnily, what was sparking was

...getting old ...Last Days ...many things ...no time ...demands, demands, demands

As thy days shall demand, so thy succor shall be! The choir swells. Pouring the cake batter into the pan my impulses, my racing thoughts, vanish at the familiar ending. (Don't you love the Mormon Tabernacle Choir?) I'm physically relieved I notice, not just oh, yeah, that's how it ends. Because it isn't only stupor of thought here, it's nervousness of a kind; and sometimes my whole self gets that way. I hear these good words and feel happy.

I'll take a picture of the cake when it's frosted. It smells good!

Sabbath observance

I have this really old green hanging file folder with a still older red folder inside that used to be stuffed with xeroxed copies of church talks and quotations. Last week I threw the red folder away - it shredded when I tossed it - and almost all the papers. Before this green folder there was no Internet. Now the Church website can be my "talk file." I've kept a rare few things in the green folder, which I carefully put away.

Today I got it out. I'm having trouble keeping Sunday holy, really doing it. I like to tool around on the computer, mess with PSE or check e-mail or play Scrabble before church. Away from the computer I might rather do Sudoku or read a book or magazine. A restful day to do this, right! (My conscience says no, and I hope it's the spirit.) When I get up on a Sunday morning I don't particularly want to launch right into scripture reading, review my Sunday School lesson or visit the poor and fatherless. I'm my Monday-to-Saturday self.

I have to work on it, and because I have these indulgences on Sunday instead of totally setting the day apart, and because I do want to obey, I'm feeling desperate. One thing led to another this morning: I started out on the computer like I do on mornings when I'm up early, but I got up from it. Kent and I read scriptures. Mostly wanting to go back to the computer, I picked up where I'm reading in Millenial Messiah, then thought about an assignment I have in RS today to give an experience about pondering the scriptures. I read D&C 76, then 5, then in the Bible Dictionary, then the RS lesson.

I got out my folder of talks and reviewed Trial of Faith - A Process, my conversion experience. You see how it goes, one thing leads to another. By now I was into the scriptures and good words and wanted nothing to do with the computer. I turned it off. (Had to turn it back on to do this, he he.) I'm my Sunday self.

The other titles in the folder are delicious to me. I'm honored to have talks by mom and dad.

Preparing for and looking forward to the Second Coming (Lisa Connelly, to my girls in seminary in the 90's)
Of Souls, Symbols and Sacraments (Jeffrey R. Holland)
The Savior, the Sacrament, and Self-Worth (Truman G Madsen, 1999)
Stand in Holy Places (Ezra Taft Benson)
Toward Greater Spirituality - ten important steps (Joe J. Christensen)
Fasting is Rejoicing (compilation of books and articles)
Personal Purity and Intimacy (Wendy L. Watson, 1999)
The Process of Sanctification (William R. Bradford)
The Priesthood and Women (Mary Ann Bradford)
Pride (Ezra Taft Benson)
Examine Yourselves - simple tests to determine if we are true to the faith (Bruce R. McConkie, 1984)
Seeking Dilgently in the Light of Christ (Wendy L. Watson)

I think reading these on Sunday will help me do better with my time before and after church.

Grownup work

Do you think about what you'll be when you grow up? I do.

1. Studying to teach every day is almost a passion, and I love teaching though admittedly most Seminary students aren't hungry for it. I used to think I wanted to be a full-time CES (Church Education System) teacher.

2. Love traveling. Stories of American explorers and pioneers; and I don't forget that Dad didn't stay in Utah, he looked far afield for job satisfaction. Will I go far places or pioneer anything?

3. Wow - Photoshop Elements - it's like driving a big bus. (Ack! I think of Shana and Jenny driving the Smoot's [vroooom!] motor home on vacation oh so long ago.) That's exactly what I thought when I uploaded this giant software program last year. But I'm doing it! In heaven learning design, color, software, actions, plug-ins, photo-editing, layout, journaling. I will always love to create!

4. Organizing my stuff just does it for me. How do I love having my things in their place; and they're there when I reach for them. Extra hangers in the closet side by side; spices alphabetized (I know, I know); clean junk drawer. I watch organization shows on HGTV, favoring these almost over the Food Network. (Another thing I'm very interested in.) Maybe I should become a professional organizer?

5. I love journaling. When I grow up should I be a writer?

I like so many things sometimes I'm boggled deciding what not to spend time learning. I saw this online and want to register. I got all quivery when I read Jessica Sprague's invitation, and why she's hosting this free class. (If you get tingly and happy when you see what you like, doesn't that mean you should maybe learn it and do it full time when you grow up?) 
I did tell myself and even Kent when we moved here I would write a book - crazy. I've not done it exactly, not like I thought I would. I have been journaling; and blogging. And published or un-, book or not, my chronicles may well be my grownup work.

On a roll

I made cinnamon rolls! They're not for me, they're for Saleah, and this is not my picture, it's one from the Internet. Linda has a scripture reading incentive of bread (as Christ is the Bread of Life) for students reading 14 days in a row, ten minutes a day. On their honor. Saleah earned cinnamon rolls and when I asked, "Bought at the store, or homemade?" she winked, and I knew. I've been eyeing Marcia's Good Friend's Cinnamon Rolls recipe for several days, not so much wanting to get the counter floury really - until today. Besides, Saleah said don't make the rolls and deliver them to her house after school or her family will eat them up while she's at volleyball practice! She needs to be there when they come, which is today when she has no school. The dough has a mashed potato in it from the garden; and instead of just sugar and cinnamon on top of the butter layer, brown sugar and cinnamon. MMMM! I was so happy to remember the trick Marcia told me about a couple of years ago to use thread to cut the cinnamon rolls. Ask me later; I'm just saying I was going about it with a carving knife when I started remembering the thread trick. I was helped!

The rolls are now sitting on the stove rising into big fat puffs which is, indeed, what I shall be if I eat even one. I'm happy for Saleah and love that she's reading the scriptures every day; and love Marcia and her recipe and thread trick and love my bread machine and sweet bread. And no, I'm not on a sugar high.

----
Erin and Abbie, first day of school 2006

How happy am I!

Just thumped a loaf of fresh-baked bread cooling on the counter and it sounds hollow like it should. I had to beg it to rise earlier - made a new recipe for Whole Wheat Honey Oat bread in my bread machine, and on the rise cycle the dough just sat. Awful good looking and great smelling but 100% uninspired. I grabbed it out and plunked it into a (greased) bread pan, covered it with a (sweet, checked) cloth and set it in the laundry room where rugs were drying, and shut the door. When I peeked at it, it had hardly bulged. The rugs were dry. I turned the oven on to 200 and put the bread in (this is more than begging, it's forcing), and said, "Get going, I'm not putting you in the trash." Later I checked and there was a little pregnant bump under the cloth, so I took that off and cranked the oven to 350 for 19 minutes. Where do I get that time - from the operating system in the ethers I go to for many other things. Don't tell.

The bread is baked and beautiful and in the meantime, since I forgot to bake all summer and because yesterday I thawed a whole zip-lock bag full of peach puree and because the oven was at a kicking 350 degrees, I stirred up Applesauce Chocolate Chip quick bread. Peach, actually. How happy am I? I always tell Kent in my mind when I'm baking how happy I am to have my mixer and Magic Bullet and spoonula, my ergonomic measuring spoons and, you know, a host of other things I love to cook with. And I am. I hum. I have a paper towel on the counter to catch the dirty things. Rachel Ray uses a bowl and I am inspired, but rather like to throw away the paper towel in the end. I don't put things away as I use them. And I don't fail to remember that Grandma Bradford taught me to do that and that I'm rebellious. Mostly I put things away but if I don't I don't worry and have a huge mess on the stove and cupboard that actually is a little fun. Tutu might have something to say about the kitchen right now.

Yesterday I made peach muffins with bran flakes, raisins and dates, and Sunday I baked Mrs. Fields Chocolate Chip cookies for Kent- well, and for me. Way good! I woke with some horror on Monday to several dozen cookies on the counter. I divied (div-eed) up a bunch for Kent to take to work and gave the rest to my Seminary students. They're still talking about them, and thank goodness I didn't have to eat them.

So... I've just checked my peach bread and it's about time for it to come out of the oven. I'll freeze it for dessert for when the missionaries come over to eat next week. Good with ice cream.

Okay, you gotta see chubby Garrett. Here's Brad and Dana's blog and you've gotta go see him in Jen's. And . . . yay for me! No seminary for a week!

*edit- so a friend came over and we had a leeettle tea party with the peach chocolate chip bread. there's something won.der.ful.ly (mmm) satisfying about a small blitz of chocolate in a mouthful of nutmeggy cinnamon-spiced quick bread! you try it! smiles . . .

Applesauce Chocolate Chip Bread
a.k.a. Peach Chocolate Chip Bread

1/2 c. shortening
1 c. sugar
1 1/2 c. applesauce (used pureed unpeeled peaches)
4 Tbsp. hot water (Omitted this for the peach puree)
1 egg, beaten
2 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp. soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1 tsp. cinnamon
Chocolate Chips (used mini chips)

Cream sugar and shortening. Add egg and beat well. Stir in applesauce and water. Add dry ingredients. Blend in chocolate chips. Pour into greased and floured baking pans. Bake at 370 degrees for about 30 minutes.

When Christ will come

I’m pretty darned earnest. I love being around my brothers and sisters who lighten me way up! My kids too, and Kent. Thanks for putting up with me. Sound like Eyeore from Winnie the Pooh. “Thanks for putting up with me. . . ” Heehaw. (Geewhiz.) Anyway, all this is to say you won’t be surprised as I finished JESUS THE CHRIST this morning that I got immediately very earnest. I lay on the couch resting and thinking about Jesus. The last chapters by Talmage are about the Millenium and final conditions of the earth when Christ reigns and the righteous are united with him in glory. I’ve written about this before and I come back to it in my mind very often. Reading the last of the book today brought me alive in my mind to what’s happening on earth and how close the time is to his coming. I began a silent prayer thanking God for my blessings and it instantly became acknowledgement of the work of his Son and a personal plea to be found righteous when he comes again. I thought about my sins; I prayed, “Let me have a horror for sin.” Tears welled up; when I get this way, either pondering or in prayer, I think how I live in a bubble. If I’m pleading to have a horror for sin, I’m begging to be out of the bubble and coming to Christ. In this sense, I pray to be earnest.

In Jewish tradition, on the day of her marriage the bride waits for the bridegroom to come for her.

At evening the bridegroom proceeds along a certain route in the town dressed for the wedding. It is usual and expected that onlookers along the route join him in what becomes a large processional toward the bride, the marriage ceremony and feast; they will go in with him to celebrate. Because it is getting dark, everyone carries lamps - it takes a while for the bridegroom to make his way, and those knowing they’ll have to wait for long periods into the night bring (if they’re smart) extra oil. They know how long their wicks will stay lighted with only one filling of the lamp; so extra is very necessary. I see now the sadness and maybe desperation of the five virgins in the parable who had no extra oil and were begging their sisters to give them some. When they did leave to buy it, the bridegroom came by
and the five other sisters joined the procession holding their lamps up, and all passed into the marriage feast.

I was thrilled to read at the end of JESUS THE CHRIST these scriptures from the Doctrine and Covenants: Abide ye in the liberty wherewith ye are made free; entangle not yourselves in sin but let your hands be clean, until the Lord come; . . . And all things shall be in commotion; and surely, men’s hearts shall fail them; for fear shall come upon all people; And angels shall fly through the midst of heaven, crying with a loud voice, sounding the trump of God, saying, Prepare ye, prepare ye, O inhabitants of the earth; for the judgment of our God is come: behold, and lo! the Bridegroom cometh, go ye out to meet him. (D&C 88:86-92) Lying on the couch thinking, I knew I want to be caught up to meet Jesus when he comes and be among those in the procession with him to his “marriage” with the “bride,” the righteous of the earth. I can’t do that unless I have a horror for sin here and now - am “entangled not” in it; nor unless I keep with me enough “oil,” a testimony of Him which cannot be handed off to someone else as their own and which ensures I am prepared against the dark. The feelings are very strong in me.