Missionaries

Here are my missionaries. Three returned. One ready to go... and look out world...
This is who is next!

Christmas is Coming

Christmas is coming and I'm getting fat. Why do my children have to be such good and generous cooks?
I know I shouldn't complain. For the first Christmas in several years I have all eight of my children home for the holidays. We celebrate by laughing together, making a joyful noise - which is sometimes even harmonious - by reading our favorite Christmas stories and by eating delicious food. I have some very good cooks in the house. My recently returned missionary is going to make Danishes in a couple of days. I want to be careful of my calorie intake so that I can indulge when he does, but my daughter made Black Forest Brownies for Home Evening treats and she tells me that she's making cinnamon rolls for breakfast. Someone else was talking about chicken enchiladas and I need to start the traditional Christmas baking including: candy cane cookies, sugar cookies, fudge, divinity, rocky road candy, and my husband's favorite, romance cookies. The only thing that can save me is that because of the sheer number of mouths we feed around here, there is little chance that I will get much more than a nibble of any of these scrumptious treats. But I do have a bizarre metabolism - I gain weight just thinking about food. Too bad I can't lose weight by thinking about exercising, but who wants to think about that?

Rainy Days

It's raining, it's pouring! No one is doing much snoring around here today. I have a house full of kids recovering from the flu. We have a coughing chorus, it sounds awful but we aren't contagious anymore.
We got the long awaited mission call: Stephen has been called to the Utah, Salt Lake City Mission. (Yes that's really a mission and that's where he's going on February 3rd.) We are all thrilled and delighted.
David will be coming home on Tuesday afternoon. We plan to have a joyful Thanksgiving. I'm not sure how to act - it has been years since I've had all my children home for the holidays. It's raining, it's pouring blessings - my cup overflows.

Random thoughts on Wind and Trash Cans

The wind woke me up last night. I like wind and thunder and lightening. A good storm finds me and my off-spring on our porch savoring the storm. It must be my Scot blood. The sound of wind at night usually comforts me. I feel so safe in my house. In the summer my windchimes accompany the sighing song of the skies, but last night the wind was mournful. The windchimes have been retired for winter, because after Labor Day they tend to chatter and clatter like my teeth when I'm out too long in the cold. Last night the wind wasn't unaccompanied though. The unmelodious sound of garbage cans rolling around on gravel was the counterpoint to the moaning of the wind and the splattering of rain. I tossed and turned for awhile, frustrated that I was losing sleep. Then a long suppressed memory tickled my fancy. It didn't have to do with wind but with trash cans. I'd gone to a high school dance with a young man - not the young man of my dreams, but a "nice" boy who I couldn't think of any reason to turn down other than I really didn't want to go with him. I tried to be kind without leading him on. I sensed I'd failed as he followed me to the doorstep to say goodnight. I was desperately trying to decide how to get in the house without embarrassing either of us when some stray cats started fighting in our old metal trashcans. Their hissing, snarling, yowling was music to my ears. The clatter of the trashcan lid, the sudden flash of lights from inside the neighbors house, and the panic I saw in my date's darting eyes delighted me. I was safe. I remember joyously laughing out loud and smiling as I safely let myself in and locked the door behind me leaving that poor boy alone on my doorstep cursing cats. Since then I've always had a soft spot for alley cats. I wonder if I should bait our trash cans when my daughter starts dating?

The wind has calmed today, most of our autumn leaves have fallen and blown away. I usually don't like this time it seems so bleak, but today there's something very brave about the few scarlet leaves that are clinging to the tree in front of my window. They cheer me with their holding on.

Waiting

It seems like I've spent much of my life waiting..waiting for Christmas, waiting for summer vacation,.waiting to grow up and be swept off my feet by Prince Charming. Waiting to be a mother. Waiting for a daughter. Waiting for my little cottage with a porch and picket fence. Waiting for missionary sons to get their calls, waiting for them to come home. Waiting for the bread to rise, for the baby to learn to say "Mama" or to sleep through the night or to walk. I remember hearing a talk once about "The Blue Bird of Happiness" and not waiting for an event in life to be happy. But waiting is still part of life. This week we are still waiting for a mission call. There were some delays that I'm certain I will be calling a blessings later. We are also counting the days (14) and waiting for David to come home. I'm also watching and waiting for my older sons to take the steps that will take them away from the home I've created for them as they begin to create homes of their own. And I'm always waiting for my husband to come home. I didn't wait for him while he served his mission - but I've been waiting ever since.
Sometimes I'm better at waiting than others, the instinct to prepare kicks in and I am filled with energy and drive to accomplish lots of good things. Today I think my body is shifting into hibernation mode and as I wait I am contemplating the changes that are coming and the joys that I've been blessed with in the past. Waiting is part of enduring to the end and sometimes we need to just Be Still and Know that God Is and sometimes we need to
cheerfully run the race before us. I'm grateful that Heavenly Father has blessed us with more than one way to wait. And I'm sure I will feel even better about it in a couple of weeks when some of this waiting will just be waiting to be recorded in my journal!

Popcorn Popping

Being the mother I am, I decided to do something traditional and memorable for Halloween. I decided we would make popcorn balls-real, old fashioned, homemade popcorn balls. No microwave popcorn, no air popped popcorn, we would use real pan popped popcorn. Sorry - I don't have a wood burning stove or an open fire to do it truly the traditional way. But...I pulled out an old saucepan with a slightly wobbly handle and a secure lid. I also grabbed my trusty screwdriver. I tightened up the handle and rallied my forces, William and Rebekah. We heated our oil, patiently waited until the single kernel popped then we went wild shaking and popping our corn. We'd almost filled my biggest bowl . We were on our last batch of popcorn when calamity struck. Rebekah was at the helm. She'd perfected her technique and she was looking fine when she let out a small shriek. I was busy putting together the ingredients for the syrup but I looked over to see the handle from the pan lid in her hand the lid still on the pan. The popcorn was just beginning to pop like crazy. I grabbed a hot pad rushed in to save the day. I slapped the hot pad on top of the lid and grasp the pan handle only to have it come completely off in my hand. I let out a shriek. By then the popcorn was pushing the lid off the pan! Fortunately another hot pad was handy and I pulled the pan and popping corn off the heat where it continued to push the lid up and popcorn began to hop out onto the stove top and counter. William, Rebekah, and I looked at each other and started to laugh. We laughed until our sides hurt and everyone else in the house had come running to see what was going on. After all the excitement we decided to just pour the hot syrup over the popcorn in a cookie sheet - we will have popcorn bars instead of balls! But William and Bekah will always remember our popping experience. Happy Halloween!

I sat down last night and composed a lyrical, insightful, and thought provoking entry and then sent it off to blog oblivion - in other words it is not wandering in cyberspace. So I will try again.
I can tell that it is autumn time because of the stack of pre-Christmas catalogs I am getting in the mail. Isn't it interesting how you can think you desperately need something that you didn't even know existed until you saw it in full color in a slick catalog. I find myself wanting toys for my children - toys that they have outgrown years ago.
I am half in love with placemats from Sweden that are so expensive that I could probably fly to Stockholm and have some custom-made for less than I would spend if I ordered them from my very lovely catalog. I've already gained two pounds of pre-holiday weight drooling over my Sees' and Swiss Colony catalogs. We won't even talk about the Meduri catalog - and as a rule I don't even like dried fruit! The clothes catalogs haven't even arrived yet. Life was easier when the only catalog that tempted me was the old Sears Christmas Wishbook.

I will try to think about other things like Stephen's mission call that should arrive in less than 10 days and the fact that David will be home in less than five weeks! Then Christmas will creep up on me and it will be too late to order from catalogs and I will have to do all my shopping at Wally's World.

I am home this evening after spending the last two days being spiritually fed.
One special thought lingers with me....

I have wept in the night
for the shortness of sight
that to somebody's need made me blind;
But I never have yet
felt a tinge of regret for being
a little too kind.
(Author Unknown)

So I am going to "go and do something today". Please feel free to share what you have done for someone else today! Right now I have a little daughter who would like a lap to snuggle on - I'm happy to oblige.

It is Monday again and this is a typical Monday. I'm tired and grumpy. I have a mountain of laundry waiting for me and the sky is gray. Notice I said "gray" not "grey". One is dark and dreary the other is mystical. Stephen gets to wait to send in his mission papers because the Stake President is going on vacation and didn't have time to do an interview. I should be grateful because now I just might get one more Christmas with all my children at home. But, being mortal and silly sometimes, I want things done now! Actually what I really want today is to be able to hide in my room. It would be lovely to put on some music and curl up on my bed with a good book and a bowl of crisp apples. Since it is Monday.....maybe I'd better think about making my bed first!
I will put on my music and I will rush around and maybe in a few hours I can steal a few minutes for an apple and a few minutes alone in my room - chances are though, that I'll be sharing my minutes with the sweetlings I call my children. Oh well - since all I ever really wanted to be was a mom, what could be better!

Daddy

I was having a bad day - things that I couldn't fix were making me crazy. You know what I did - I called my dad.
It took him about 3 seconds and it was all better.
I hope some day that I can learn to do that. I'm grateful that there are those in my life who can do that for me.
I'm over emotional these days. My son, David, will come home from his mission in just two months. And my son Stephen should have his call for his mission in two weeks. Changes, transitions, growth and all the joy and pain that goes with it. It's a good thing I have family to help me through all this. Funny thing - it is family that helps get me through and at the same time it is family that gets me often gets me into these stressful situations. One of those paradoxes of life. I wouldn't have it any other way. Thanks Daddy!

Monday Magic

Some Monday mornings I can hardly drag myself out of bed. I often feel the need for a day to recover from my Sabbath! I've learned that to insure that my family has a peaceful Sunday -I get to work twice as hard. But today I was ready to get up and get moving. While the sun was slipping over our ancient mountains, turning the whispy clouds from grey to pink, I walked up to campus to meet my sweet Mary and to walk her home from Seminary. William was going on to his music theory class so I had a chance to walk home with my almost grown girl. How sweet to have a daughter who is not ashamed to take my hand, a daughter who seeks me out, a lovely daughter who inspires me to be better. Because of that time with her this morning I am motivated and energized. I find that my positive interactions with my sweetheart and our children rejeuvenate and inspire me. I am going to make time for more one-on-one with my children. They grow up so quickly and they are so very precious. Being a wife and a mother is such a great gift!

Welcome to Plumfield

In the morning there's a nip in the air and the leaves are beginning to change. I'm thinking of frying donuts and making a big pot of chili. I have to be careful; I can gain weight just thinking about such things.
My little men who aren't little anymore have already gone back to school and my little women and William are busy again with studying at home.
In a mad moment of self-improvement I decided to start blogging. My girls will help me keep you informed of our comings and goings, our adventures and misadventures, our joys and our sorrows. I hope you will enjoy a little bit of whimsy with me, my sweetheart and my kiddywinks.