It's The Thought That Counts

For Mother’s Day the Relief Society held a special program for all of the Sisters. It was arranged that the Priests would teach the Primary Classes that Sunday. Well, it's the thought that counts...
The priests came in the Primary Room with the confidence that comes with 5 minutes of basic survival training. They were not given a parachute as they were pushed out of the plane into the Primary war zone. High casualties were expected.
The battlefield was full of confusion. "Third door on the left" sounded the battle cry. They froze in their places as they were either rushed with adrenalin or falling into a stupor of thought. It was hard to tell. They consulted with each other trying to figure out who was teaching which class, who could count three doors down and which side was left. Seeing their bewilderment I lead them to the battlefront of the classroom.
The children were surprised by the change of command. "What are 'they' doing here?" they whined. After explaining about Mother's Day, the kids were still confused, "You are a teacher not a mother". The children still did not understand what was going on. I continued to explain while seating them boy/girl.
Well, there were not enough girls to do boy/girl exactly and this was upsetting to one of the girls. As she begins to cry we arrange it the best we can by seating boy/girl/boy/boy/girl/boy/boy/girl/boy. It was the best pattern we could come up with.
The kids were still unsure of the situation and very wiggly. I explained again that the young men would be teaching and they needed to be reverent. I had no delusions that this pep talk would be effective. It did, however, give the illusion of calm to the young men. Reality would arrive soon enough.
It would be impossible for these relunctant warriers to remember the children's names. I had an idea to help them out, small hankies to replace the missing parachutes. I counted off the children and told them that their number was their name for that day. The young men looked uncertain. I was determined to instill confidence to my faltering troops. I smiled reassuringly and said: “Okay, I’ll turn it over to you and you’re all set.”
“Where are you going? Aren’t you staying with us?” they begged.
Time to become a man!
I patted them on the shoulder and I did not look back.

Your Theory Welcome

I could have died!!! (Dramatic exaggeration added for dramatic effect.)
Tuesday as I opened the garage door and stepped toward my car door (Izzy, the red one:) I almost met my demise (or a serious head wound) as wood, metal, playpen parts and bungee cords fell from the ceiling only inches (so many inches it could be measured in feet, maybe yards) from my head.
Luckily, it missed Izzy and I so you do not need to send cards, we're okay.
There in a heap lay the remains of the decorator dog kennel. The playpen piece was the make shift lid we secured with bungee cords to keep Zoe from jumping out. When all was said and done we decided it was not that "decorator" with the playpen floor strapped to the top so we put it in the garage in one of those overhead storage shelves that can hold 10,000 pounds...
Having watched one too many CSI type shows, my imagination progressed...
When someone would come upon this awful scene they would immediately suspect foul play. Crime scene detectives, Homicide and NCIS would be called to the tragic seen of a young woman (later they are amazed at her older age) who was tragically taken before her time by a dog crate, play pen and bungee cords...
They suspect a bungee cord slipped from off the shelf, suspiciously hooked onto the rising garage door ejecting the lethal debris which fell onto the unsuspecting (do they ever suspect?) victim.
But how! Why? Who?
Then, they would all develop theories...

1) Of course the spouse is always suspect #1. But what was his motive? Perhaps he wanted more wives but she wouldn't let him...

2) Next suspect...who had something to gain from her death? The Dan Jensen Groupies! Yes, its true. My husband has groupies - (who could help but to love the guy!).

3)Andrea! Yes...always claiming to be the favorite child she has used the old "criss-cross" plot. She gets rid of me, CSI suspects dad, then she takes over the business! Very devious...this will definitely be fodder for another of your novels no doubt...

Your theories are now welcome.

No Dignified Options Available

Today’s adventure....
It was a rainy day with a cold, blustery wind so uncharacteristic for April. As the garage door opened Zoe ran out to meet me. She had been alone for 2 hours so I took her to the pen before going inside. I saw that the wind had kicked up a corner of the artificial grass so I stepped over to fix it. BANG went the side door as the wind plotted against me. Somehow the force locked the door and I was stuck in the dog kennel!
I looked for a hide-a-key (don't tell but now there is one:) that was not there and then was faced with
1)screaming for help (the garage door was still open)
2)climbing over the fence
Option 1 would of course be undignified and would also have been difficult with the roar of the wind and lawnmowers filling the usually peaceful neighborhood with noise akin to a freight train. So, I went with option 2. I’m not sure it was any more dignified…but I was able to do it thanks to my superior athletic skills!
The adventure continues...
Trying to act cool, wow!I like I had just climbed over the fence, I found the wind had blown over the plants on the front porch. I had difficulty sweeping up the dirt, especially with Zoe dancing and jumping around the broom.
I decided to do it right and got out the hose to spray down the entry way. "I can do this without getting wet" I thought optimistically while I wondered what the wind chill factor would be.
Zoe thought the water hose was even better than the broom! For a dog who whines when she has to go three steps into the rain to pee it was ironic seeing her get in the cold water like it was a hot summers day. We were now both wet and dirty. She ran in the house, tracking dirt all over the entry tile before I could grab her for a bath.
When I gave her a bath, in warm water I might add, I became soaked as she squirmed and struggled because(oh the irony!) she hates baths. I dried and combed her and then changed my clothes.
Perhaps dignity is over-rated.

Confessions of a Closet Organizer

These confessions are by a professional organizer. Do not attempt these stunts at home alone. Wait until I come to visit and I will "help" you:)

1. All hangers must match. No wire hangers.
2. Sort clothes by type and purpose (pants together, jeans together within pants section, etc.)
3. Organize by color within each group, going light to dark
4. Organize shoes in similar fashion with shelves labeled for optimal neatness
5. Use and label bins to hold items on shelves
6. Utilize small clothes hampers for sorting laundry to be cleaned
7. Review each item (I do it spring and fall when I switch seasons) at least once a year to remove items your children would laugh at. If your children are too young to laugh at your clothes a sister is a better judge than a husband who says "it is fine".

#3 is really the key. I learned this system working at Nordstrom. I go from light to dark within colors and color groups. White, beige, yellow, orange, red, purple, green, blue, brown, black. Sometimes I mix it up with the purple, green and blue. It doesn't matter the order as much as order matters. I like to take it to the next level by, for example, going light to dark on dress pants, then dark to light on casual, then light to dark on the jeans so the color intensities kind of flow.

I love it! But, it doesn't keep me up at night so it's not technically obsessive.

Before corn was used for Ethanol

Christmas Feast 2004

It looks like the kids got one piece of cake to share?

Before corn was used for Ethanol and eggs cost $4.00 a dozen...this is what our $15 a month could buy.

• 15 for 1$ - 8oz. cans of tomato sauce (used for making spaghetti or goop)
• 1$ gallon milk (we drank 1-2 gallons a month)
• 1$ 18 eggs
• 2 1$ packages of spaghetti or macaroni
• 10 for 1$ Campbell's Tomato Soup (made with half milk/half water)
• 1$ pound of hamburger (1-2# a month)
• 4 for 1$ bread
• 49 cents a pound for whole fryers

Things we ate: Spaghetti, "goop" (macaroni with hamburger, tomato sauce, onions and frozen corn), biscuits, potatoes (mashed was his favorite), tomato soup with saltine crackers or toasted cheese sandwiches. Fried chicken.Tuna casseroles were famous for how far they could be stretched. Frozen corn or peas were the only veggies.

Oatmeal, corn flakes, cheerios and scrambled eggs were standard breakfast fare. I made pancakes a few times but Dan said he didn't like them that much.

Special treats: Cookable chocolate pudding, cake (box cheaper than scratch), scratch cookies.

It was for sure a "loaves and fishes" type of time and we're not sure how we survived on $15 either but we did for, I would guess, 9 months.

After those days I remember having the food budget raised to $100 with at least Brian, maybe Andi.

Later, after serving a tuna casserole for dinner, Dan said, and I quote: "How much would I need to raise your food budget to never have a casserole again?"

As the 4 kids became teens we had a food budget of 400$. We enjoyed plenty of chips, ice cream, varied cereals and other "luxury" items. Most of the time there was no need for a "food budget" for which I am thankful.

The price of food...

When Dan and I were first married our food budget was $15...a month! Granted, we worked at McDonald's and most days at least one of us were able to eat at least one meal there, but still! $15!
We now spend $30 a month on our dog, Zoe. However, I must say, for that price her food does look pretty appetizing.
4/14/08

Irony of a Playroom

The purpose of a playroom is to play, obviously. I adamently insist this is what I want. The playroom is for playing...we have a doll house, a train set, TV/DVD, Barbies, cars and trucks. In the near future I may consider a video game system of some kind. We chose the room off of the family room to be the playroom thinking the kids would play in there while being close to the (adult) family. Most of the time we (the kids and I) bring things out of the playroom because what is the fun of having grandkids if I don't play with them?
HOWEVER!
The room can go from OCD organized to an exploded toy factory in a matter of minutes. Mothers frantically insist on having the kids pick up and try to put it back together but secretly I redo it after they leave.
THE IRONY-
A play room is for play and a family room is for reading, talking and TV but when you have kids a family room is really for family to play because it is a family activity...if there is a a family room and/or playroom for play and there are toys to play with, why then would toys not being played with be the "ideal" that you see in magazines?
THE JOY-
Every time (okay, usually) I clean up the toys I think of how grateful I am for the chance to share this fun with my grandkids. I treasure every day I have to be a Nonna...even if the balls and the barbies are not in the right bins.
Nonna-4/14/08