Ducklings, Dogs and Chicks

   Almost a year ago, after our traditional Saturday morning breakfast with friends, Kirk and I headed North on I-15 to  do the grocery shopping and run errands that we save to do together each weekend. It's one of my favorite days of the week! As we were nearing our exit an 18-wheeler whizzed past the driver's side passing us and pushing a duck into our path.  In the blink of an eye I saw feathers flying and ducklings scattering to the barricades on the right side of the freeway.  We looked at each other in shock and I said, "There were baby ducks!"  I didn't have to say more (that never stops me..).  Kirk exited the freeway, entered the freeway headed South to the exit we just started from, got back off the freeway and then back on again headed North.  I had a blanket in the back seat and we travelled in the farthest right lane watching for anything that may resemble ducklings.  We finally saw two and Kirk pulled over in front of them.  As soon as they saw us they turned around and started running in the other direction so Kirk quickly ran in front of them and started chasing them back towards me. They came close enough that I was able to throw this giant hot pink blanket over them, scoop them up and get back in the car all without anyone else losing their life!  We must have looked crazy to all of the motorist speeding by.  With adrenaline aplenty, we headed straight to IFA which, as luck would have it, was just off the next exit.

   Kirk went in to get the needed supplies to keep these little babies alive while I continued to hold them within the blanket.  It was so cold and I had not felt them move so I cautiously parted the folds of the blanket to make sure they had survived our rescue attempt.  Umm...wow! How amazing was that first real view of these helpless little creatures who were clearly enjoying the warmth of the blanket and the blasting heat from the car. Despite being recently orphaned, scared, tired and cold, they were alive and promises were made right then and there that I would do everything in my power to make it up to them.

   We got home and quickly got to work introducing the ducklings to the powers that be, AKA Buddy and Crazy.  The latter really didn't seem to care too much about the newest additions but Buddy was smitten.  He quickly became the self proclaimed protector and helicopter parent of the ducklings, watching over them whenever anyone tried touching or getting near them.  Some times he would lick his chops.  This made me a bit nervous.  Is he just waiting to eat them?

   Kirk had a beautiful set up for the ducklings with food and water and a heat lamp for the warmth they would need.  We watched them for almost three hours because what else do you do when you have ducklings? We tried to get them to eat or drink but they wouldn't, or couldn't or maybe they just didn't know how.  I suggested we go back to IFA and get a couple chicks who were freely eating and drinking at IFA without anyone showing them how.  Maybe they could teach the ducklings how to survive.

   We did just that.  When I saw the multitude of chicks in the big aluminum trough chirping away one thought struck me, "These are all bigger than our ducklings!" The 14-year old chick-professional guided us to the chicks that had just arrived and were less than 24 hours old.  They still seemed bigger than the ducklings but they would have to do.  I pointed to two different breeds, picking a Buff Orpington, now known as Parmesan, because she seemed calm in the chaos of the throngs of chicks, and an Ameracauna known simply as Chicken, just because she looked sassy.  My chick picking strategies were lacking at the time but things have turned out well!

   We headed back for home, introduced the new girls to the dogs and then to their new coop mates.  Parmesan immediately marched over to one of the ducks, looked it over and pecked it in the eye.  I guess she was just waiting for her moment to shine.  Within fifteen minutes the ducks and chicks were eating and drinking and bonding and cuddling.  I cannot express the relief I felt.  I imagine the ducklings were relieved too.  I am certain they grieved over the loss of their mother and siblings and while this wasn't plan A, it was an okay plan B.

   Tune in next time and watch Buddy babysit the growing brood!
 

37,000 Words

   It’s 25 days in to 2019 and I am already feeling like it has been quite a year.  There have been some wonderful things and some down-right emotionally and physically draining things.  But that is precisely what makes life worth living, isn’t it? The sprinkles on my sundae!

   Kirk and I were in Texas last week with family as my sweet Aunt Polly made the transition from this life to beyond the veil.  We spent quite a bit of time gathered in her room reminiscing about so many wonderful memories through the  years.

 At times it was quiet and we all were either in our own thoughts or reading or scrolling through social media.  Kirk decided to reread the blog I wrote about his motorcycle crash and subsequent broken back. I followed suit and found myself crying over the multitude of blessings we experienced at the hands and hearts of family and friends.  I was reminded of the growth that happened personally, in our marriage and in our family and I was profoundly aware of Heavenly Father’s hand in granting not only a full recovery but an amazing experience for us.  He truly knows and loves me, and you.
   Rereading the blog gave Kirk and me a lot to talk about... such fond memories of time spent with loved ones, even if he was a captive audience! We shed tears several times as we discussed our kids, family, friends and even people we hardly knew that went out of their way to help us during those 6 months. It truly was a blessing to go on that adventure with everyone.
    Writing as often as I did during that time was therapeutic. I enjoyed talking about what we were learning through our adventure and hoped that our experience would be able to help someone at some point.  I didn’t realize how much it was helping me!
   I guess what I’m trying to say is....I have a lot say! Kirk is always saying “Women use 37,000 words a day...” what he doesn’t realize is that we only use that many because we have to repeat things for our hubbies when they tune us out!  Seriously though, I like putting my thoughts into words and putting those in to print so... I’m going to give this blog another go and I invite you to come along!
 
 

Heavenly Father Loves Everyone

The tears I am shedding are from the ache I feel for those who are so angered by the policy clarification from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints on same sex marriages and the children, natural born or adopted in those families.

When I first read the news article I was stunned, even angry.  How could they not allow children to be blessed or baptized? Isn't that punishing them for choices made by someone else? Doesn't our second article of faith state that we won't be punished for Adam's transgressions? I thought we love everyone! This didn't feel like love.

I immediately started praying for help in understanding this.  It was only minutes before I got a text from my oldest daughter asking if I had read the article.  I told her I had and then I prayed even harder knowing what the next text would ask.  She asked what I thought about it and with divine guidance I was able to express to her the following:

"When I first saw the headline I felt mad but then I read the entire statement and realized that once the child is an adult and making their own choices they can choose to join the church.  It is difficult in our society to draw a line of right and wrong. The church must draw that line with their policies so that everything coincides with the teachings of the gospel. We don't believe in same sex marriage but we do believe that every human being has certain rights. Those rights don't include changing the definition of marriage but should include civil rights allowed to all.  If someone chooses same sex marriage it doesn't mean that they are loved or valued any less, it just means they choose not to live by the guidelines of the church. I probably don't fully understand the depths of the policy but I know that President Monson is a prophet of God and speaks for him. If nothing else, I trust that and will certainly come to understand the whys."

Through the next few days and with continual prayer to my (and your) Heavenly Father, I feel so much peace in the policy and it's clear protection for the children and their parents.

I am only a whisper in the fury of the social media storm but I shall whisper nonetheless.

As a child I attended church.  Alone.  On occasion one of my brothers would attend with me but, for the most part, I went alone.  Our home life was less than ideal with many financial difficulties, alcoholism and violence that shaped our lives in many different ways.  There was love in our family but there was also a brokenness that seemed to never get repaired.

Being with my ward family at church was a refuge.  A calm in the storm of my life. I belonged. But there was also a deep sadness as I listened and learned the gospel and made the connection that my family wasn't living this gospel that I loved.  It was not a welcome response at home when I started asking the "why's", especially, Why don't you come to church? My parents had their reasons, the most memorable response was that the "Bishop couldn't answer their questions".

We had some neighbors move in next door from South Carolina, the Allen's.  They had three daughters, the youngest being just a year or two older than me.  We became friends and eventually I was invited to a sleep over.  That night, before we went to bed, the entire family gathered in her parents bedroom and kneeled around the bed to say a family prayer.  This was completely foreign to me! The father said the prayer and he asked for a blessing for me and for my family. My little heart skipped a beat....this man just asked Heavenly Father to bless me and my family! I remember laying in bed that night with my mind racing at this thought.  It was that night that I believe I was converted to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Not at my own home with my family, but at the home of someone who was living the gospel to the best of their ability.  I found myself wanting to be there as much as I could. I started noticing gospel centered actions in other friends homes and found myself gravitating to their homes too. I knew that this was what I wanted in my own family, I wanted my children to feel that and to have a family that lived a gospel centered life.  I have tried to instill that in our family and while not perfect, I am comfortable with my efforts.

Reflecting on these experiences has made the policy clarification of children in same sex families not being blessed at birth or baptized until age 18 an act of love for the child and their family.  No child wants to attend church and learn that their parents, the same people who they mostly view as their heroes, are not living the gospel. What good would come from that? In my own life experience it has caused grief and brokenness.  No one would wish that on a child or on the parents.

I loved the explanation this video with Elder Christofferson gave.  Please take 10 minutes and watch it.  I hope the peace I feel will fill your hearts.  I love you and I know Heavenly Father loves you. He wants the best for all of his children and he continues to show us the way.  It is not easy but I testify that it is worth it.

http://www.mormonnewsroom.org/article/handbook-changes-same-sex-marriages-elder-christofferson


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The Best Is Yet To Be

January 1, 2015. The day millions of people make billions of resolutions that are usually forgotten in a mere matter of days. Why do we do that?



So, I am not going to make declarations about all of the things I am going to do or change or think. I quite like where I am at and who I am. In fact, I plan on enjoying everything that already is just a bit more.



Today, I just want to let you know that I will be appreciating every person, place and thing in my life for exactly what it is, a blessing.



Consider yourself thought of and loved.



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My Old Friend

*Written in October 2014

I am laying on my bed surrounded by three of the most adorable fur-balls ever. Jazz, my very own senior dog (18 years and counting); Crazy a.k.a. The Vicious Licker and Buddy the Couch Critic. How did I get to be so lucky to share my life with them?

Each of them has their own unique personality and special quirks that make them even more loveable. Crazy will not eat a potato chip unless you dip it. Buddy is the sweetest, kindest dog unless he is behind a fence and you happen by our house.

And Jazz. My little circus dog who has lived beyond the last three Christmases even though odds were against her. She has been called a great many things; Jazz, Jasmine, Jazzy Girl, Skinny, Eeyore and Princess. She was chosen as the puppy we would keep from our dear Sadie's last litter before she was even born. Bryn asked if we could keep the runt and lucky for us it was Jazz.

She was supposed to be ours. No doubts about that. She quickly melted our hearts with her perfect puppy eyes and prance-y walk. She still prances around during bursts of happiness. It is during those moments that you would never believe she is 126 in human years.


















Most recently she has taken on the name "Old Friend". She greets me with the giddiness of a child being reunited with their mother after being "lost" at the grocery store. Her favorite place to be is, and always has been, wherever I am. She insists on having a meal promptly at 4:00 PM and any delays in that will be brought to your attention. She loves food, cuddles, sleeping under the covers, going on walks and treats.

Jazz is as much my child as the two I gave birth to. How does one feel this way about an animal? It is easier than you think. I watched her come into this world, bathed her, fed her, cleaned up her messes, potty trained her, held her, cleaned up some more. We have played, camped, cuddled and cuddled some more. I am not sure who enjoys the cuddles more, me or her.

****December 8, 2014
Kirk and I just returned from the garden where we have laid our old friend to rest. After several days of great discomfort we knew it was time to let her be at peace. I can picture her frolicking with Sadie and enjoying every minute of her reunion. How blessed we feel to have been the recipients of such unending love from this little gift. Jazzy Girl....we love you and can't wait to see you again.


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Location:N 300 E,Mapleton,United States

Watching

I am laying a well rested body into bed tonight and feel so grateful to have had such a peace-full weekend.

I did not shop or pack for this trip. I did not load the four wheelers or make sure all of the camping gear was there. This was all done by my sweetheart, and some help from the kids. I packed a bag with just the essentials and drove to a bit of heaven secreted in the beautiful mountain of Weber Canyon.

The next two days were spent visiting, laughing, riding, eating, napping, reading and the best part...watching.












I watched my dear in-laws enjoy their children, grandchildren and even great grandchildren as they tightened the bonds beyond just family into friendship. I watched my girls have a long-awaited cousin sleepover akin to those magical nights years ago when they would make their beds in the floor and talk and giggle until the wee hours of the morning.







I watched 15 pounds of bacon, seven dozen eggs and countless pancakes get gobbled up. The breakfast part of a Bertelsen campout is dripping in tradition, particularly on how and who should cook each item on the menu. One of my favorite things to watch is my sister-in-law's beautiful hands as she cooks the eggs and pancakes. I shared this secret with Bryn so she too could enjoy the view.

I watched the four generations enjoy all of the same things and learn many more things that will most likely become favorites too. My eyes welled with tears so many times as I watched this beautiful family that I am so blessed to be a part of, enjoy each other, pray for each other, tease each other.

It was a perfect weekend.

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Macaroni and Cheese Promptings

Today is Sunday.
My favorite day of the week.

Why is it my favorite day of the week? Well, it's a day of rest. An actual day that a good amount of people in the world believe we should "rest from our labors". A day that is different that the other six, stress-filled, I-can't-wait-to-get-home days of the week. For me that means, I don't need to face crowds at the store. I am not expected to drop everything and take care of a crisis at work. I don't need to participate in the hustle and bustle of the typical Monday through Friday craziness. It is a day to rest my weary brain and tired body in one way and a day to draw my focus to the most important things in my life; my family, my Heavenly Father, those dear friends of mine and even to me.

For someone else, it may mean something totally different.



For years my girls have boasted that I make the best homemade macaroni and cheese around. I, like many of their friends, believed them. I could be coaxed into boiling water, melting butter and grating cheese with the mere mention of my abilities in making this life changing dish. Friends would come from far (south of Center Street in Springville) and wide (Cedar Hills) just to partake of this amazing concoction.

One day, after stirring in the last bit of cheese, dishing up the bowls and sitting down to enjoy my macaroni and cheese, I wondered out loud, "Why do we like this?" The look of utter shock was on their faces! Bryn quickly said, "What? Because it's cheesy and creamy and... Why would you ask that?"

There are not a lot of times I can think of in my life that I wanted to dig deeper than the surface of a situation. I am a 'roll with it' kind of gal and it has served me well. But, at that moment, something in me wanted to know more. Why did we like it? Was it the way it felt on our tongue? The salty, creamy comfort of the melted cheese? Did we like it just because we have liked it for a long time or because there was something about it that made our life better, something to look forward to.

I just finished a bowl of my world famous dish (it was wonderful) and caught myself thinking about that day a few years ago when I asked the question, why? At the time I almost felt guilty for asking. How could anyone question such a precious tradition? Maybe it's just my age, (which of course brings much more wisdom) but lately I find myself asking 'Why?' even more. To have a sure knowledge of my interests, my dreams and purpose. My macaroni and cheese seems to be prompting me to dig a little deeper.

So.....here goes....

Sunday is my favorite day of the week. It helps me feel rejuvenated and ready to meet Monday head on. I love seeing my adorable primary kids and hearing about the best part of their week and trying to plant a seed of my testimony somewhere inside them. I love planning a family dinner and laughing and talking together with those that I love so much. I even love football with my man! I look forward to solitude and thoughtfulness. I look forward to a nap and a good book and reminiscing about those who are gone. I love long rides in the canyon, sitting on the patio and even listening the the clock tick tock in the quiet living room.

I love Sundays.

For those who would like to make the worlds best macaroni and cheese, i share my top secret recipe:

1.5 lbs. elbow macaroni, cooked and drained

Sauce:
1 cube butter
1/2 C. Flour
2 C. Milk
2 C. Diced sharp cheddar cheese
1/2 C. Grated pecorino romano cheese

While macaroni is cooking, melt butter in saucepan, stirring constantly over medium heat. Let butter brown or caramelize slightly. Whisk in flour and continue to stir as you slowly add milk. Lower heat and let simmer. Add cheeses and continue to stir. Drain noodles when they are done and place back in pot. Pour cheese sauce over noodles and stir to combine. Let macaroni cool for five minutes before serving. Garnish with red pepper flakes if desired.


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Happy Birthday Beautiful!

Our lives changed forever 27 years ago when this amazing little soul arrived. Dani Lou; soft spoken (don't let that fool you), animal loving, creative, brilliant, inspiring, lover of Steve, world traveling, tender hearted, diligent, determined, big sister to Bryn, sun loving sweetheart.

She has taught me how to follow your dreams, make goals, be open minded and most importantly, to love unconditionally. The best thing she ever did for me was make me her mom.

Love you so much Lou!





























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What's For Dinner? Pasta Caprese Salad

I couldn't help it..... I had to satisfy a craving for my favorite summertime staple, Caprese, beautiful tomatoes, real mozzarella and fresh basil topped with olive oil, sea salt and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar. Nothing tastes more like summer.



How do you recreate summer in the middle of January? Here's my recipe....let me know what you think.

16 oz. Bowtie pasta cooked, cooled under cold running water and drained.
1 cup grape tomatoes
1 12 oz package fresh mozzarella balls
4 cups fresh spinach/kale blend (in lettuce section)
4-6 fresh basil leaves washed, dried and sliced up
1 cup Gena's "Life Changing Dressing"* (recipe below)
Salt and pepper to taste

Toss together and enjoy!

Gena's Life Changing Dressing

1/3 cup lemon juice
1 T fresh minced garlic
2 T white sugar
1 teaspoon ground mustard
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 cup good olive oil
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
1/3 cup Kraft grated Parmesan cheese

Mix well and enjoy on everything from salad to pasta or as a dip for some great crusty bread. Store in refrigerator.

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My Girl....Happy Birthday Bryn

Each day I like to post something inspiring, something that sparks an emotion, a giggle, a smile, thoughtfulness. Something that makes the world different and hopefully better for those who see it. Most of the time it is some simple quote or picture shared on facebook. When time allows I'll put my thoughts down here, on my blog.

My inspiration today, and most days, arrived exactly 24 years ago in the form of a squishy little pink bundle that has forever changed my world.















Kirk and I had chosen the name of Brandi for her and we had spoken her name often as the due date arrived. It was engraved in our minds. Imagine my surprise when I learned that Kirk and His sister Peg had decided this little sweetheart could not be named after an alcoholic beverage and thus changed her name whilst I slumbered in the hospital. She would now be known as Bryndi.

I had not heard this name before, nor had Peg or Kirk. They said they made it up. It was unique, beautiful and one in a million. It was definitely the right name for her. She has been called Bryndi, Bryndi Boo, Boo Girl, and most ironically, Boozer. So much for being non-alcoholic.

The girl can do just about anything she puts her mind to. She has danced since the age of two and even taught dance for a few years for Orem Recreation. She took gymnastics for a few weeks, okay, maybe a whole semester, and claims she won a blue ribbon because of her skill;). She played soccer for many years during grade school, played the piano and the recorder and went on to simplify different songs for her 4th grade class so they could play them on their recorders. She was even asked to play a solo at an assembly.

Bryn won the DARE essay contest in fifth grade and participated in the science fair where her and her friend Kimmy showed off two bunnies and made a poster all about how often they reproduced. We were so proud as we watched other parents come through and read the poster and giggle. Bryn excelled in socialization in school.....really....grades, not so good. Friends, EVERWHERE!

She joined the FFA in her sophomore year and absolutely loved it. She raised a lamb for auction, served as the recorder and was even chosen as the FFA Sweetheart her senior year. No one was more shocked than Bryn! It was beautiful.

Bryn has been a nanny for two of the most adorable faux-grandchildren anyone could ask for, a CNA, worked at a gas station, a restaurant as a waitress, a dance teacher, a receptionist, done medical records, and is currently preparing to take her test to be licensed as a Master Esthetician. Just imagine what she can accomplish in the next 24 years!

I love this girl! I love watching her become such an amazing example to so many. I love how she inspires me, sometimes with anger, mostly with her passion and love.


Here's to your year Boo!

Thanks A Million....And More!

What a beautiful Saturday it has been. Lots of laughing, laundry and lounging. I have needed this day for way too long.



I have actually had the last three days off of work and today is the first calming and relaxing day of them all. Of course, the two days leading up to that were sheer craziness as we (me and the most amazing staff and volunteers you could ask for) made all the preparations for the big New Year's Eve dance. By Tuesday afternoon we had made 12 gallons of salsa, 8 gallons of pasta salad, cooked 24 pounds of chicken breasts and made 6 gallons of chicken salad for more than 300 croissant sandwiches not to mention all the veggies, cookies and punch.

The volunteer dance committee, Bob and Judy Womack, Kitty Bair, Debera and Rich Hill and Noreen Hansen, decorated tables with confetti and balloons and made the ballroom look like a million bucks. My service workers, Debbie Robinson and Larry Martin, are so much more than I could have ever hoped for. Debbie is a natural in the kitchen and I told her we could probably go into he catering business together after this last week! Larry has a way of making sure every last detail is taken care of which puts all of us at ease. Else Morgan manned the front desk while her husband David pretended to be the "bouncer".

The bottom line..... I could not have accomplished any of this without them! In fact, I depend on them daily to keep the Orem Senior Friendship Center running smoothly and me from the edge of insanity.

How do you thank these people for all that they do? I'm not sure but I am open to suggestions!


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Right Back Where I Started From

One year ago today, I began a beautiful journey at the Orem Senior Friendship Center. And what a ride it has been!

I was recently pondering the pathway that led me to my dream job when I realized, "I'm right back where I started from!" Eighteen years ago I jumped into the job force when both of the girls were in school. I was lucky enough to get hired with Community Action Services, a wonderful program that helps those in need, especially seniors, with things such as food, tax services and utility help. One of my duties in my 20 hour work week was to spend a few hours at the Orem Senior Friendship Center helping the seniors with tax abatement forms. The office I used while there each week is just down the hall from my current "resting place".

Wow! Eighteen years!

Every opportunity I have taken from that starting point has been blessed with the association of senior citizens whether serving them or teaching them as they serve others.

I have learned so much from them and I look forward to many exciting adventures in the coming years.

I am right where I belong and it feels wonderful.






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Life in The Fast Lane

Where has the time gone? Is it really January 1, 2014? How did this happen?


Have you ever been so totally exhausted, mentally and physically, that when you get home, pull into the garage, turn the car off and walk in the house you wonder how you even got there? Like, you cannot even remember driving home? I have more of those days in the last two months than I care to divulge.

I am thoroughly enjoying spending my days at the Orem Senior Friendship Center and find myself loving these people more and more every day. I find so much inspiration, beauty, determination and honor in their actions, words and laughter. They continually teach me to be more patient, more understanding, more gentle and more than what I am today. I am so grateful for those lessons.

There is a wonderful quote that speaks so deeply to me; "When a passion and a career come together, it is a beautiful thing." I have not felt this fulfilled in any other job since being in the throes of raising the girls. It is exciting, crazy, difficult, lightening fast, ever changing, on the tips of your toes, out of breath beauty. 92.7% of the time it is perfect. It's the 7.3% that is giving me a run for my money. Add one little sprinkle of menopause into the mixture and I believe it is what a Weather Man calls "The Perfect Storm".

I find myself asking Heavenly Father to just give me a minute to breathe; please let my brain shut down; please. Unfortunately, these prayers have not been answered quite yet which also signifies that I have not learned whatever it is that I need to learn. Sigh.....


So, how do I catch my breath? That has been the question plaguing my mind for quite some time. I can lay in bed, even with the mental and physical fatigue, combined with a good dose of ambien, and still think of 13 things I need to do in the morning when I show up at work, what will I make for dinner tomorrow and do I need to get something out of the freezer? Pray. Just pray. I decided to try thanking Heavenly Father for everything I have been blessed with. Have you heard that question, "What if you woke up tomorrow with only the things you thanked Heavenly Father for tonight."? So I tried this. Several times. Turns out a bit like this... "Heavenly Father, I am so thankful for Kirk, he is my love and I don't know what I would do without him. I am so thankful for Dani and Steven and Bryn and even my cute grand-dog Hank. I am thankful for Crazy and Jazz and especially Buddy, he just makes me smile. I am thankful for the jobs we have been blessed with and that we are able to live in the Non'ts home. I am so thankful for our ward and the Amazing people we have here. I am thankful for the trees because they give us such beauty and shade and....oh, I've got to remember to put the leaf rakes away.....oh, and bag the patio furniture pillows up for the winter and...wait, wait.... I am so thankful for the blessing of having enough food...crap, did I get that casserole dish out of the garage fridge? I cannot believe I have forgotten that again! I will get it tomorrow, when I start the washing machine for the third time with the same load of clothes in it.

Am I the only one?!!

So......I have started my own mind control program. Have I mentioned that I am a control freak? If not......news flash.....I am. My program consists of me......trying to control my mind. So far things are not really going according to plans. Actually, I haven't been able to stop my thoughts long enough to introduce the "Plan" to myself. Truth be told....I am not even sure there is a "Plan". It all sounds really good....and controlled.....but, it's not.

I have read several articles about reducing stress in your life and the following remedies have been suggested; long, warm baths, aroma-therapy, read, write in a gratitude journal, breathe deeply, go outside.

After compiling this list I realized that I could take a nice, warm bath with some of those Dr. Teal's lavender bath salts wafting through the air providing a sense of calm. While relaxing in the tub I will read this month's Country Living magazine which will inspire me to jot down some wonderful things that I am grateful for. Afterwards, I will take some deep breaths, walk outside and realize that I have yet to cover the patio cushions for the winter. Clearly, this is not going to work for me.

Fortunately, I have been blessed with an amazing hubby, fantastic kids and a couple of furry friends that welcome me home no matter what.

I am so excited for the possibilities of 2014. I am certain I will find plenty of crazy days but I am also certain that everything happens for a reason.






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Today Is Brought to You By......

Source: casualtyofyou.tumblr.com via lauren on Pinterest

If You See My Brain, Please Return It

What a week! My thoughts have been everywhere....and back again. I found myself sitting behind a car that had "AD8TN2" and I was trying so hard to figure out what it meant. A Date Ten Two? What is that? Who came up with that. Did someone mess it up? 

Then, this amazing thought popped into my mind....why does it have to mean anything? What if (and I know this is a stretch) it was just an average license plate with the actual letters and numbers that came out in that random order? 


This little two minute scenario turned into an afternoon of thought provoking questions. The bottom line was this: Why does everything have to mean something? DOES everything mean something? And, if it does....how much have I missed?

I continued analyzing this for the rest of the week and here I am 5 days later still wondering......was it a random plate or something I didn't get?

Please return my brain:)

Late Nights, Early Mornings, Sleep Texting, Missing My Sweetheart

I realize that several of my late night thoughts come to the tips of my fingers shortly after I have ingested the magical ambien. And believe you me....magical it is!

I had such a wonderful conversation with my sweet Bryndi Boo tonight. Good thoughts about life, what we need to do to succeed and some choices that can definitely make the road a little rougher. She has amazing insight and such tender feelings. The tender feelings are due to Claire, the little girl that Bryn started nannying when Claire was 3 weeks old, possibly going to preschool this fall. This doesn't leave a lot of time for Bryn to continue to be a big part of her life....and of Nate's. Bryn once put a phrase with a picture of the kids that said..."the littlest things that the biggest part of my heart." She truly loves these kids as if they were her own.
I totally understand what she is saying. I, too, have fallen in love with the kids and enjoy moments of pretend grandparenting. I look forward to phone calls from Claire giggling and telling what she has been up to that day and hearing about brother playing with friends or doing his homework.

Kirk is gone this weekend to a shot show in Vegas and he is having a blast! I find I can get some major things accomplished while he's away and try to make every minute count by going to bed late, getting up early and not really stopping in-between. It makes missing the sweetheart go by a little faster.
I think my phalanges are about to start the texting dance so I must end my thoughts and let the rest of them fill my dreams. Love to you all.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iP

Welcome 2012

Whew.  What a ride 2011 was.  I think I have been looking forward to 2012 for at least a couple of months now.  Don't misunderstand....2011 brought some wonderful blessings.  It also was sprinkled with tears and even some fears.  I don't know that I have anticipated the beginning of a new year quite as much as I have this one.


I was thinking today about all of the things that affected my life so greatly, in wonderful and not so wonderful ways,  in the last year and thought it might be good to say thank you to my Heavenly Father for some of them.  Don't know that I will share them all and I am certain it cannot be contained in one post...so...just do the Evelyn Wood Speed Reading thing if you are not interested.  You never know, it might inspire you to be a little more thankful ;)

Prayers. Short ones. Long ones. Ones filled with Anger. Some with Anguish. Many with Gratitude. How grateful I am to have a loving Heavenly Father that answers my prayers....

"God is eagerly waiting for the chance

to answer your prayers 

and fulfill your dreams.

Just as He always has, 

but He can't if you don't pray,

and He can't if you don't dream.

In short, He can't if you don't believe."

-Elder Jeffrey R. Holland

For me, prayer goes hand in hand with faith, believing that my efforts will be recognized and even rewarded with the sweet peace that He knows what I am going through, what I can handle (even if I have doubts), and what is best for me.  That whole "what is best" for me thing isn't always what I had in my agenda, but I am thankful that He sees things with a much wider angle lens than do I.  Ohhh to have the camera that He has.

A Man I Call Sir: Part 2

The last hours of 2011 and my mind has been on him most of the day, if not the entire week. I thought I should finish telling you about him.

Most of my treasured experiences with Uncle Roger took place on the phone, by email and snail mail, in my home, in Marfa and midway through this year, in Dallas.

I loved visiting on the phone with him.  As soon as he knew it was me he would say, "Well hello sweetheart!" This could make any day, any situation, better immediately.  His voice seemed to command respect and attention, no doubt from the many years serving in the military and Border Patrol.  I willingly gave him both.  Some of the calls had purpose. The others were just to hear his voice, laugh with him and hear the updates of life.  He had a way of making me feel calmer in a tense situation just by listening to me.

As my girls got older he was always interested in hearing about who they had their eye on and he was always able to come up with some sort of statement clarifying just why that particular boy was not "the one" for either girl.  He would get the girls on the phone, ask them about the current love interest, and proceed to arrange the bits of information in a very unflattering way, giving the girls cause to giggle....and maybe think about the validity of his statement.  One such conversation went something like this:

Well, hello young lady!
Hi Uncle Roger.
What color have you got your hair today?
Well, I died it black.
Bryn...you know I like your hair best when it's blonde.  It's just so pretty on you.
I know, but I like the black too.
Who are you dating?
Joe* (name is changed to protect the innocent).
What is Joe interested in?
He's in FFA and he is a bullrider.
Does he have a job?
Well, he rides bulls. I think he wants to get sponsors and keep doing that.
Bryn, he is going to be a 40 year old, broken down, bull riding, has been, who can't do anything but collect disability.  He's not the one for you.

And he wasn't:)

Uncle Roger happened to be staying with us when Bryn was going to the prom.  The group of kids that Bryn and her date were going with decided to meet at our house to take some pictures.  About the time the kids were departing, Bryn said goodbye and Uncle Roger stood up and said, "Let's go."  Bryn looked at him and then questioningly at me and Kirk.  All of the kids just stopped.  Uncle Roger said, "Didn't your mom tell you I was here to be your chaperone?"  Many sighs of relief were heard when everyone realized it was a joke. He chuckled about that one for years.

He was critical of Dani's dates also but once Steven came along he was unable to come up with a reason why he was not the one.  This was a good thing since she married him.  Not a phone call went by that he did not inquire about them, their jobs, even their dog.

I was blessed enough to find a wonderful man that met my uncle's expectations.  In fact, I believe he may have even exceeded them at times.  I watched as he counseled, taught and inspired Kirk in so many aspects of his life.  They thoroughly enjoyed each others company. Kirk was the student at the foot of the master when it came to guns and gunsmithing.  Many times I would come home to find them on the phone with each other discussing guns.  He told Kirk, mostly for my benefit of course, "Never let your collection go stagnant", meaning, keep buying guns.I have tried to use this same thought process when buying shoes;).  Kirk would literally spend hours in the gunshop with Uncle Roger learning how to repair just about any firearm.  He would be amazed as Uncle Roger could go directly to a drawer, pull a particular screw out of dozens and have the exact one he needed.  If a part was not available, he made it out of whatever he had.

Near the end of February 2011 Kirk and I drove out to spend a week with Uncle Roger and Aunt Polly.  We try to do this as often as we can and it is a time we look forward to with great anticipation.  Kirk would always take a few guns with him that need one thing or another fixed so Uncle Roger could guide and instruct him on what to do.  I looked forward to visiting, shopping and general pampering of my sweet Aunt Polly as well as pleasing my Uncle with homemade Italian food.  It must be a Carly thing...this love of good food.

This particular trip was one of the best we had ever had.  Aunt Polly seemed to be doing so much better physically and we even took an entire day trip driving, site seeing and laughing.  On the morning that we had planned to leave, Kirk packed our things in the car and we walked outside with Aunt Polly and Uncle Roger.  Kisses and hugs were exchanged...and exchanged again.  He took me into a big hug, kissed me on the cheek and told me he loved me.  I said, "I love you too, Sir".  Sir was my term of endearment for him.  He let go of me and said, "You know, it was about this time of year 6 years ago that I said goodbye to my dad for the last time." I punched him on the shoulder and said..."You can't just say something like that as I'm leaving!"  He gave a short chuckle and said he was just thinking about it.  We waved as we drove out the driveway and onto Russell Street.  I started to cry as I told Kirk what he had said.  Nothing could have prepared me for the reality of that statement.

A Man I Call "Sir"; Part 1

Kirk and I returned last night from his third, and my fifth trip, to Texas this year.  The 21 hours of driving leaves a lot of time for wonderful conversation and pondering for me and for my sweetheart.  So much has transpired this year and I still struggle to put the journey into words. Fortunately, I have somewhat of a cyber-journal here and hope that my words and feelings can be had for good some day by someone who comes across them.

About 42 years ago I met a most amazing man.  His name is Roger Peter Carly. He is the son of Dan and Josephine Carly and the big brother to my father, Dan Carly Jr. I met him at the kitchen table of his parents home, the home I now have the blessed privilege of living in. He is a handsome man with piercing blue eyes...an often talked about family trait.  He was accompanied by his wife; a sweet voiced, Southern belle named Polly.  He referred to me as "Sweetheart". We were immediately connected, he and I.

Over the years we have had countless conversations, on the phone, in person and by email. I have shared ideas, secrets, mistakes, successes and trials with him.  We have laughed, cried and joked with each other.  He has made me laugh, taught me how to be patient, exhibited amazing abilities with animals (especially beagles;)), guns and the English language. He wore his cowboy hat like only a true Texan could.  

This will take some time.....but please, bear with me as I tell you about a man I call Uncle Roger and "Sir".

Roger and Polly Carly live in Marfa, Texas, a small town, in a very large state, about 30 miles North of the border of Mexico.  It boasts a little more that 2000 residents, a plethora of museums, authentic Mexican food and the mysterious Marfa lights. Located on an inconspicuous corner in this cozy town is a 3 story, centenarian home shielded from the desert sun by more than a dozen towering trees.  You will find all manner of vegetation, some indigenous, some transplants protected and prodded to grow by the mistress, covering every inch of the grounds.  Walk anywhere on the property and you will be greeted by four barking beagles, loyal only to their master, announcing your arrival.

Next to the detached garage of their home is a place known throughout the Unites States as "The Gun Shop". Hours are 9-Noon and 3 -6 PM. Business is not conducted from Noon to 3....ever. This protected time is reserved for lunch and an afternoon nap. Visitors and phone calls are only accepted during an absolute emergency. No exceptions. Call or stop by during this time and it will be the ONLY time you will make this mistake.

The Gun Shop is not a large place by any means. It measures roughly 6 feet wide by 20 feet long and is filled with tools, machinery, dust, gun pieces and parts.  The smell of oils, solvents and sweat make your nose tickle a bit but it becomes a pleasantly anticipated smell that makes you feel safe. The cement floor has the usual small cracks of age and a pathway down the center made shiny by the footsteps of a man at work.  Screwdrivers, hammers and files cover the walls in chaotic organization known only to the master of the shop.  There are various posters alerting visitors to the federal laws of purchasing firearms and gun safety. There are old license plates, one in particular is from Pennsylvania with the year 1937. The year and state that Uncle Roger was born.

Help! I Have Fallen Down the Stairs and Can't Stop Laughing!

True Story!  We are on our way to see Uncle Roger and Aunt Polly in Texas and decided to stay at Days Inn in Los Lunas New Mexico.  Many of you will remember that town with great fondness as that is the sacred town that we acquired Buddy in.  We even went to Walmart and took a picture from the parking lot where I first laid my one good eye on him.  Awww.

Back to the stairs...Kirk was in front of me carrying our bags, fortunately, or I would have actually hit the floor instead of the one stair above the floor.  He did comment that while he was glad he could stop me there on the last stair he was a little disappointed that he wasn't actually behind me to watch the whole thing:)

I have gone through this scenario in my mind a million times....what would I do if I fell down the stairs, in a public place, where people were present?  I had decided long ago that I would giggle.  And I did.  A lot!  In fact, still giggling just thinking how funny it must have looked as I tumbled around holding on to the railing with my right arm the whole time.

Lots of bumps and bruises, aches and pains.  Kirk did have me take some ibuprofen asap so that should help along the way.  We did choose to go elsewhere for breakfast since this incident happened right outside the breakfast room and a couple of people came running to help.  We went to Denny's and Kirk lovingly suggested the Grand Slam breakfast as a way of continuing the great start to the day:) He is so thoughtful.....and dang funny!

P.S......I am still giggling as I rub my aching shoulder:)