Slipping Through My Fingers

Tonight Hillary went on a date with a nice young man.  He was such a cute little boy in Kindergarten.  And now he's this tall, handsome thing.  As I watched him open the door for her to get in the car, I marveled at the fact that she is not my little girl any more.  It sort of seems like last week she would stroll around the cul-de-sac, chatting with her imaginary friend, Brittany.

Now it's real life.  Now, as she's growing up, everything we ever taught her, or tried to teach her, is going to pretty much matter.  It counts.  And that thought is a sobering one.

As I walked past her bedroom and glanced at the clothes on the floor as well as the homework and hairpins scattered about, I recalled the words of a favorite song.

Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time. . .

As I wait with quickly drooping eyelids for the sight of her to come bursting through the door, I anticipate hearing all about her evening.  Her father, bless his snoozing heart, has a full day at the church tomorrow.  I encouraged him to get to bed.  I'm actually glad to have just a bit of girl's time. . .  Oh, I love my children.  I feel so blessed.

Ah!  I hear the front door opening. . .

Julene Soothes the Soul

My friend, Julene Judd, has such a beautiful, soothing voice.  Last night when I took Sophie the dog for a walk, I brought Julene along, tucked in my pocket.  Actually it was Julene's voice singing to me from my iPod, which was tucked in my pocket.

What had been an evening of a few bumps in the road turned into a softer smoother ride as a result of listening to Julene and her beautiful music.

Thank you, sweet Julene, for getting me through those four laps with Sophie (and happy anniversary today)!!

Repeating the 3 R's

Yesterday I took Hillary for a birthday facial.  She is so delightfully fun to be with.  I had one right along with her, and it was so refreshing and relaxing and rejuvenating I forgot to redeem my $15 coupon.

. . . Sigh. . . I guess I'm just going to have to go again. . .

The Real Lesson From Mopping

So the other day I got mopping and cleaning and just couldn't seem to stop.  I ended up putting a few coats of finish on the kitchen floor--a process that usually takes about four grueling hours, which includes application and drying time between coats.  I got interrupted numerous times, which I expected, so the whole ordeal lasted a day and a half.  Sophie the dog seemed to understand why I didn't want her so much as looking at that floor, let alone tromping across it.  That floor was so clean we could have eaten off it.  I just wanted to stand there and gaze at it and picture it clean like that forever. . .

Just as I was moving the kitchen table back in place, a knock came at the door.  Three of my adorable, darling, cute young neighbors, along with their cousin, stood there, smiling at me, asking for a Popsicle, which they often do, and which I always love to comply!

I found the very last of the summer season's Popsicles in the freezer.  I sweetly explained to them as I took the wrappers off that since I had worked so hard getting the floor clean, I wanted them to eat the Popsicles outside.  They were just fine with that.

As I was replacing the chairs around the table, in walked the cute little tots with their dripping Popsicles, asking me for a napkin and telling me they had forgotten to tell me "Thank You."

Their bright little faces looked up with me with such Christlike love and innocence.  I simply had to smile.  Is a clean, shiny floor a bigger deal than having a few drops of orange sugar water dribble onto it once in a while from love shared between neighbors?

It wasn't difficult to decide which mattered more.  I got them them some napkins, gave them a hug, and sent them back outside,  but before I cleaned up the mess, I updated my shopping list.

Who Knew?

Who Knew that I'd feel so motivated from General Conference this weekend that I'd look around today and see where I could start improving my life?

Who Knew that I'd start mopping the kitchen floor, then realize I hadn't cleaned underneath my oven in a looonng time, and decide to pull the big ole' thing out of its comfortable resting place?

Who Knew that I'd regret I ever read that book If You Give a Mouse a Cookie?

Who Knew that Michael Jackson's "Black or White" song, pumped up really loud on the kitchen stereo, would keep me moving?

Who Knew that so much disgusting dirt, grime, pretzels, ramen noodles, a fanny pack, cleaning cloths, and even a ping pong ball could all fit under there?

Who Knew that peppercorns and mouse droppings look a lot the same?  (I'm voting they were peppercorns)

Who Knew how excited I'd be that the piece of candy I would find under there would turn out to be a piece of licorice, which I don't like, instead of a Tootsie Roll, which I adore?  I seriously was quite excited about that.  It didn't last long, though.  As I cleaned a little more, I really did find a small Tootsie Roll.  Still in its wrapper, hard as a rock.  I threw it in the garbage, then fished it out again, unwrapped it, sprayed bleachy cleaner all over it to guarantee I wouldn't try to eat it, and threw it back in the garbage, where it still sits.  Good for you, Pam.

Who Knew that I was strong enough to put a hole right through that lovely old kitchen vinyl floor as I was moving the oven back?  That strength training is certainly paying off!

Who Knew that I'd be able to get that thing back to where it started out today--and that it would still function?

Who Knew how good the kitchen floor would look (except for that hole in the floor over by the oven)?  Why don't the visiting teachers come over today?

And Who Knows what motivation I will continue to feel from those wonderful conference sessions that will inspire me to do something to improve my life tomorrow?

Sources of Guidance

I started to list all of the talk shows that are available on TV in the space of a week.  There seem to be countless!  A plethora of producers, writers, and hosts meet daily to discuss, debate, inform, and in many cases, sensationalize, the problems of the day.  Many topics which affect so many of us are addressed through this media.  And yes, there is good advice given.

The challenges discussed on talk shows are no different than those addressed at General Conference.

However, the difference is the Source of the solutions.  Many learned men and women have spent their lives seeking answers--from other learned men and women.  I don't discount that.  But doesn't it make much more sense to trust in the counsel that comes from those with divine direction?  To "walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit?"(Romans 8:1)

Our Heavenly Father wants us to be happy.  He wants us to succeed.  That is why He wants us to seek His guidance and counsel.  "What I the Lord have spoken, I have spoken, and I excuse not myself; and though the heavens and the earth pass away, my word shall not pass away, but shall all be fulfilled, whether by mine own voice or by the voice of my servants, it is the same." (D & C 1:38)

I eagerly anticipate the inspiration and heavenly help that will come today through message and music, in a calm and peaceful manner, without commercial interruption, and delivered by divinely appointed messengers!

The St. George Marathon

My computer has been having issues the past few days.  I am glad to be up and running again.  Speaking of running, as I'm writing this, in about six hours, the St. George marathon will begin.  Just a few short years ago, on two separate occasions, I was down there, prepping for the run.  One year Mark and the kids came along to cheer me on; another year I was there with Dianne and Ruth--my two marathon buddies.  Everyone should run a marathon with Dianne and Ruth.  They are wonderfully positive women.  They taught me how to be happy through those 26.2 miles.  One game we played while we ran was taking a little trip through the alphabet, and coming up with and sharing positive words.  A-wesome, A-mazing, then B-rilliant,  C-apable, and on down the line.  The only rule was that we couldn't say words with a negative connotation, like A-wful, A-chy , B-rittle, B-rutal, or C-an't, or  even C-orpse.  That game really worked well between mile 16 and 19!

Another thing we did was to name a body part that wasn't hurting.  By about mile 20 we simply could not come up with anything, until cute Dianne said that the only part that didn't hurt on her was her earlobe.  We laughed until mile 23!


Part of me is quite content this weekend to be at home, sporting my cozy sweats, watching conference.  But a lot more of me wishes I were down in St. George, with my two running buddies, doing that delightfully grueling marathon. . . I am only too aware of what it would take to get back in training.  I don't have as much confidence in my knees as I used to.  But what an indescribable thrill it is to cross that finish line and have that "Finisher" medal put around your neck!  And especially to do it with people whom you love and appreciate, who have inspired you to try your hardest and give it your all.

To you, Dianne and Ruth, my marathon sisters, thank you for the incredible memories which continue to motivate and encourage me!