Sunday Speaking

The Superman spoke in Church today...Since he's the one who assigns speakers each Sunday, It was a self inflicted burden....

I'm sure three weeks ago it seemed like a grand idea but the fact that Grant's on day 7 of a 9 day stretch at work and has had only a few hours at home made talk prep difficult...

Around the dinner table Saturday night (it was Pizza Hut and a case of Root Beer, does Root Beer count as a vegetable??) We were teasing Grant about having to speak...

"Careful Alex, I'll just assign you a talk" Without missing a beat Alex (13) says "As long as it can be on Dating or Sexual Purity!?!" {topics from the For Strength of Youth} Nice {something about that kid scares me ;)}

After days of bugging Grant to at least put "something" on paper...My scholar come home from work at 11 pm last night  and hands me a piece of paper with the word "something" written on it. Joy, every body's a comedian....

This morning I was actually impressed with the talk Grant managed to deliver....I would share quotes but they are on his i pod that died 5 minutes after Grant finished speaking :)

Grant has now served in the bishopric for nearly three years now and the calling has really changed his heart and today I could truly see and feel that. It is true that you come to love those whom you serve . He and our family are blessed for the opportunity to serve....

Olympics Back In The Day

We still lived in Southern California when the 1984 Olympics came to Los Angeles....

The Olympics were a big deal for our family...My Grandad competed in the 1932 Canadian Olympic trials for Track and Field and would have competed in the 1932 Olympics held in Los Angeles if not for the depression. They only sent one team member to the Olympics and Grandad missed the oppurtunity...Something he deeply regreted...

So when the Olympics returned to LA in 1984...Grandad came down and Mom and Grandad went to every Track and field event they could get tickets for.

Kelli and I got to go to a couple of swimming events and the closing ceremonies...

Even as a nine year old, I knew we were experiencing history. I remember standing in long lines, the Olympic pins, the closing ceremonies with a million balloons and flash lights that we had to change the colour from red to white to blue on singnal, creating amazing light pictures around the stadium

It was awesome....Expreinces of a life time especially for my Grandad. Maybe that's why I'm such an Olympic nerd now. Doesn't everybody watch it non stop :)

Mental Illness: Breakdown.

Alright, this might be a bit of a soap box post...so consider that fair warning....


Have you ever come away from a situation and thought, dang it I should have said something, why did I say this or Why didn't I stop them. Well it happened to me last week and I was disappointed in myself for not having the balls courage to speak up....

So consider this my courage:

It was a casual social setting, acquaintances but mostly friends, people were invited to share experiences on a specific topic....

Mental Illness was NOT the assigned topic.

For reasons completely unclear to me....Someone decided to share experiences they had had with people behaving badly...bizarre, weird, unkind, misunderstood behaviors in a group their peers...

"Well you know they were MENTALLY ILL." "They had to be MENTALLY ILL" "They were CRAZY"

The monologue went on for several minutes with increasingly worse behaviors experienced, all being attributed to mental illness and not one person stopped them. I locked eyes with more than one who acknowledged my discomfort...but it just continued. Why didn't I say something or why didn't someone else, at least why didn't I get up and walk away....

It wasn't my activity, I wasn't in charge....but that shouldn't have mattered.... I should have said something....

20% of Canadians will personally experience a mental illness in their lifetime. {Facts and Figures here}

Okay, Our family has been hit a little heavy handed {statistically} in the mental illness department, so no worries we have some of y'all covered ;)

I know the heart ache and triumph of mental illness and would just like to clarify one thing....

Behaving badly means you are behaving badly.

Behaving badly does not mean you/they are mentally ill....You can be mentally ill and your behaving badly might have nothing to do with your illness and everything to do with your choices. All most all with mental illness do not behave badly. They win a daily victory over a devastating illness.

Anxiety....Depression....Bipolar type one....Bipolar type two....These are no longer illnesses on the pages of a medical text book. These are faces with beautiful smiles, with eyes that light up the room and strength measured against Olympians....

They were  my mother, they are  my husband,  they are my many dear friends.

So please in the future be kind and careful with your words....for you know nothing, for that which you speak. 

{behaving} badly [ˈbædlɪ]

adv worse, worst

1. poorly; defectively; inadequately

2. unfavourably; unsuccessfully;

3. severely; gravely

4. incorrectly or inaccurately

5. improperly; naughtily; wickedly to behave badly

6. without humanity; cruelly

mental illness - any disease of the mind; the psychological state of someone who has emotional or behavioral problems serious enough to require psychiatric intervention...

First Kiss Flashback

"Mom, Its not a date! and Mom, he's not my boyfriend!!! " said with disdain topped with the best eye roll ever.... As I stood there starring at my un-named daughter, I had an instant flashback....

My seventeen year old self:

Northern Reflections hot pink, purple, turquoise green stripped rugby shirt, with the white collar (that I stole borrowed from Kelli.

My acid washed Guess jeans.

Spiral Perm.

and my knock off Doc Martins complete with scrunch socks.

It was 1990 something and I. Was. Awesome....

The only other guy I ever "dated" was dropping me off after dinner or a dance or I really don't remember...

But I do remember before he walked me to the door he...He...HE kissed me! My first kiss. Under the street light across the street from Mom's house.{I actually thought it was slightly on the gross side, but was thrilled for the bragging rights, cause I was positive Kelli hadn't been kissed yet}

I went in the house on cloud nine, but left out the kissing detail for my over inquisitive mother and sister.....

Over the next few days my Mother and sister kept pointing out street lights..."That's a nice streetlight, don't ya think, Robin?" "That would be a perfect streetlight, Robin?" What???

Then. It hit me like a freight train...Oh NOOOO!!! You saw me kiss him, didn't you!!!!

We watch the whole thing, Robin. Maybe you should pay more attention to streetlights, Robin. Kelli just grinning and nodding like a Cheshire cat.

I turned every shade of red possible while my matriarch and my womb mate reveled in their glory....

I have never lived the street light kiss down...{right Kelli}.... I'm still leery of street lights.




Back to reality....So when did I become "the Mom"....

I get a text from un-named daughter..."I will be home by 11...you don't need to wait up"

Reply: But its way more fun that way ;)....

Reply: Mom!!! ...fine I guess I'll see you later.

Reply: Can't wait...I <3 U (it apparently annoys teenage off spring when you use the {heart }and you're over thirthy five) <3 <3 <3 <3 kay, I'll stop :)

Our un-named daughter arrived home alive and on time and I gratefully climbed into bed.....

Daughters and dating, sigh

Sad Money

I know it tends to be taboo to talk about money...well unless you're broke, then complaining about it seems perfectly acceptable....

Everybody knows the joy of payday....(yeah we made it another two weeks ,without starving or having the power shut off).

Or the realization that you forgot about the $300 HST check that has just been deposited in your account (kids we're going to the movies) Oh happy day!

But did you know there is sad money too?

Not long after my mom died eight years ago, I came home to a Canada post pick up notice on our door step...I signed for an unexpected envelope. Inside a check. Not tons of money by today's standards. But more than the Superman and I had seen in a while. Grant had been laid off for the winter and the money saved our bacon literally....

But I felt so sad, Benefiting from a death was so morally wrong for me. I hated that money.

A few weeks later, we pulled into an acquaintances drive way, in a new to us Jeep Cherokee...."What did you win the lottery?" the woman asked....No my Mom passed away.... The woman literally threw her hands up in the air and cheered. "Yay for inheritances!"

I was devastated by her callus reaction....

"So how much do you think you'll get from your Mom/Dad??"

Also a stupid insensitive question, Yes. I have been asked (more than once) and will always refuse to answer.

Was, a certain bank balance supposed to help me work through my grief faster??? Money in no way honoured or represented Mom's legacy or Dad's. It was sad money.

Fast forward to today...

Another envelope for a Dad this time....Again sad money. The fact that I had a bank teller who could use some sensitivity training(I'm sorry for your loss , just saying?) and another (I think) bank manager site US check policy over and over again like I was hard of hearing...Made for a pretty emotional morning {My check policy problem is fixed for now (thanks G)}....grief especially sucks in a crowded bank

  I sure miss him and would gladly give up all the money in the world just to tell him a few more times, how much I love him.

Sad money  kinda sucks, really.

I'm a {fabric} Hoarder

It's official I'm a {self-diagnosed} fabric HOARDER...It's rather alarming really. But the only reason I am still sane (well, kinda sane) is my new obsession with sewing....I got my first sewing machine in November and after the superman said I'd never use it...It's never sat idle for more than a day or two....

Anybody can go to the fabric store, but I love the challenge of creating things from pieces of fabric I find at the second hand stores...It's more fun that way, but really it's that I'm cheap, really cheap...

Here is my find from the second hand stores in Parksville today..... 

More than thirty pieces of fabric (most at least a meter) for the grand total of....

$19.48

Yeah,  I'm pretty proud of myself.

Let the creativity begin :)

In the last week I've made....

A puppy (with the help of Amy :)

A monster .

An apron (for Superman, I mean his boss' birthday)

Three messenger bags

Four, Any chair a high chair, things

You get the idea.

and, two infant car seat covers...

It's an addiction, but way cheaper than therapy :)

{I've decided to stock pile my projects and start selling at craft fairs in the fall...(I have to keep the habit going some how :)

Every project is and will be, one of a kind and

made from re purposed fabric.}

So if you see something you like or have an awesome idea for a project, let me know....I'd love your feed back and the creative challenge :)

 

{Backwards} Headstones Revisited (it's funny)

My sister's from Nephi, not originally, but the quaint and quirky city (village/town, by anyone else's standards) as become her adopted home town....It's also the place we chose to bury our Dad.

"We are going to have to drive "from heck to breakfast" to find it" ....WHAT did you just say, I asked her last weekend?!? You've never heard that before??? Nope, pretty sure its a Nephi, thang!....

That isn't the first time either...."We was at the rodeo last night..."   Nephi-speak is rather charming and funny all at the same time.

We spent two weeks in Nephi in April....

It reminded me much of our five years in Raymond, Alberta.

More quads (four-wheelers, in Utah speak) than vehicles

A gas station with more deer heads than, Slurpee flavours.

A funeral director that shows up in his western shirt, wranglers, and cowboy boots (he was awesome!)....

And a cemetery with almost all the headstones facing the wrong direction (kinda)....

Let me try to explain....(it took several times for me to get it myself)

The head of dad's grave is between the grey "Nielsen" stone and the large blank stone.

Okay so I've always thought of graves in a cemetery as "beds" with the head stone being the headboard....So when you stand at the foot of the grave , you can read the front of the headstone....


Well apparently not in Nephi....

When we buried Dad here, I couldn't figure it out.(Do they stack graves here??) The headstones are flipped backwards....still over the head the grave , but opposite from convention...

A dyslexic cemetery planner....nope just Nephi, and no other explanation is known or needed :)

Never seen this anywhere else. Just a quirky part of Nephi....Quirky just like Dad was.

............

So through an all-day game of phone and e-mail tag....Kelli and I finalized Dad's headstone....

A much simpler process this time. Within 30 mins the designer had a mock-up of something we were happy with....

Front, with a jazz, not rock drum kit and a little robin bird, cause I'm the favourite daughter....

The Bird....

The story for all the prudes among us: Dad loved nature....

The Real Story: Putting the middle finger on a headstone, is considered tacky, especially in Utah :) The designer told us they did it once and the cemetery made them take it off , later...
The middle finger was my Dad's most universal way of communication...it was rather endearing really. And just as much him as his blue eyes...so the  little bird, is really "the bird" ...

Back, Oh and Kelli and I without our last names just in case we get divorced (well you never know, and it has less awkwardness than sneaking into the cemetery late at night with a chisel and hammer :))


Dad made no excuses or apologies for who he was or how he lived...He was the pure definition of genuine...

I think we simply honoured him.

And yes his headstone will also be "backwards".