Category Archives: Me

A Treasure from the Library

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I’ve been a James Christensen fan since high school. He just captiviates my imagination– taking me to the place I loved to play as a child, a magical place. He is so graceful with the human figure. His pieces are so full of symbolism and wonder…

So, when I stumbled upon this book at the library I was so excited. Brenna wanted books about fairies. I picked this one off the shelf and what a combination– the beloved Laura Ingalls Wilder and beautiful fairies. And the fairies looked so familiar. The book is illustrated by a guy named Richard Hull, who upon further investigation teaches at BYU…so, obviously a student of James Christensen.

The poems are fun and sweet. What else could you expect from Laura?

And a fun fact I learned about her: She didn’t write the Little House series until she had grown children. That gives me hope. Someday I will have time… Someday I can be a real artist.

Right now my kids need everything I’ve got.

ode to George (aka. Captain Knuckles)

I was working in my spindle factory tonight (my garage/ woodshop) sanding away at drop spindle whorls, and the smell of black walnut sawdust brought back memories.

Urban Forest Woodworks. Now, that was the COOLEST job ever. My first year of college I perservered through being salad bar girl at Sizzler and a telemarketer for long distance telephone service and landed a job in a woodshop. And not just any woodshop, mind you, it was Urban Forest Woodworks. The mastermind of this opperation was George Hessenthaler. He had piles and piles of old trees out front– trees that would normally be taken to the dump. There were old elm trees, maples, whole discarded fruit orchards. He’d cut these trees into lumber and we’d make them into pretty boxes.

For hours on end we’d stand at the “puffers” (little orbital sanders clamped to a table) decked out with ear muffs and dust masks sanding away until our box tops gleamed. (There did come a point at which George’s wife Helen put her foot down and reduced the amount of puffing. It just wasn’t economical and sand the boxes at 150, 200, 220, and 320.) Heather and Melissa and I (we were girls with power tools) would sit at the putty table and talk about getting putty in your reveals (getting kissed) and laugh hysterically upstairs as we oiled boxes and finished the interiors. (I realize now that most of the hysteria probably wasn’t really funny, but who cares when you’re breathing in all the fumes?) I could tell the difference between plum and cherry, norway maple and silver maple, english walnut and black walnut. We had so much fun. There was such a bond between us college kids working there. We were a team and loved what we did. We’d have dinners and George would pull out his Dictionary and make us play some silly game he made up, then he’d cut the bread on the band saw.

I was reminiscing tonight while I puffed my drop spindle parts.

Urban Forest Woodworks has gone through some rough times since then. But I think it’s still afloat. Last I heard George was living in the shop. He’s a man with a dream.

Thanks, Captain Knuckles, for the memories. Those are surely some of the treasures of my life.

Laddie

I read Laddie by Gene Stratton Porter last week. It was so wholesome and lovely and uplifting. It filled me with graditude for my family—my exemplary husband, my creative children, and my dream to educate them and grow with them. The Stratton family is my model. We will be like them, and someday Barry and I will stand in the place where we started and look out over what we’ve created and be overcome and overjoyed. It is a book I will read over and over—by myself and with my family.

So, this Relief Society President thing

is, well, um…HUGE. My phone has not stopped ringing for 3 days. Well, I guess it’s not ringing now. It just rings while I’m nursing a baby and my other 2 kids are sledding down the stairs in a laundry basket. Either that or trying to do back flips off the couch–and my kids definitely aren’t good at back flips. All the phone ringing must coincide with a crisis, screaming, and nursing a baby. I don’t answer it then, but I do eventually have to return the calls. That’s when the fighting comes into play. My children have never fought so much until I had to make lots of phone calls, so I just ignore them and try to pay attention to what the person is saying at the other end of the line as the bigger kids climb into Logan’s crib and jump up and down and demolish his mobile while screaming at each other at the top of their lungs.

So, who’s idea was this?

I feel strangely peaceful about all of it. I’m just learning the ropes. I can do this. (positive thinking there)

Today was just crazy. Barry’s alarm didn’t go off. Who knows why. He probably just forgot to turn it on–or it had to do with the fact that we had each of our 3 children in bed with us for at least part of the night and his clock got knocked down somehow. Anyway, he woke up late. Pre-Presidency that would have been no big deal, but see, we only have one car. Barry missed the bus and it was raining, so he couldn’t make his usual bike ride. He had to take the car, but I had to be at the church at 11 to meet a truck with $500 worth of humanitarian aid for a local charity, and after that deliver groceries to a sister who just had surgery. He also had a lot of work to get done… Well, he came home early so that I could have the car. $500 worth of food is A LOT of food–a lot of really heavey food. And the woman who I delivered groceries to lived WAY out in the boonies. And I left my lights on while I was putting away her groceries, so I could not leave her house when I was done. Another sister who also lives way out in the boonies rescued me and jumped my car (because I had no jumper cables in it–just 3000 lbs of food).

Then it was Enrichment night. It was wonderful. We helped clean a clinic that helps migrant workers in the area. We stocked their pantry with food, we scrubbed the floors, wrapped Christmas presents and talked with each other.

It was also very humbling. I looked around and realized that if anyone from the outside looked at our group they would have no idea I’m the one in charge. I’m to akward and quiet around people I don’t know. I can never think of cute things to say or good questions to ask to keep a conversation going. I big groups of people I can not get my mind to focus–I never remember to take roll or…anything I should. I end up just watching a lot of the time… And I also realized that I am the youngest woman in the ward.

So, who’s idea was this again?

I did more today than I normally get done in a week. (Did I mention there is a fiber-arts show I am making new spindles for this Saturday? Yeah, that’s a lot of work too.) I’m hoping by next week I’ll figure this out so that week can remain sane and my children won’t be completely starved for my attention.

Heavenly Father is in charge here.

Good thing.