6th Grade Capers

   I should probably preface this with a disclaimer, that I do not condone this type of behavior.
  I have been remembering my 6th grade year. I was one of those kids that totally believed the 6th grade "Ruled the School" (please read the books by Knudsen and Wilkensen). After all my years of timidly trying to do all I was told and never causing problems, I got a very young male teacher. We were ruthless. I think his name was Mr. Hall. We saw his age and lack of experience as a sign of weakness and tortured him mercilessly. The day we really cut loose was April 1. I am so embarrassed but I will share the memory.
   We started the day by sneaking into the classroom before school I had brought a frozen carp that my brother had left in the freezer. This was cunningly put in Mr. Halls desk drawer. Someone in the class had drawn a picture of Mr. Hall romancing Miss Moulton (an old maid colleague). This was taped to the pull down map at the front of the room. There were a few other tricks that were mild and so have been filed in the trash of my mind.
    We waited all morning with snickers for Mr. Hall to open his desk. When he did we all guffawed and he threw the fish in the garbage. Then we had to 'cleverly' ask him to show us something on the map. Here he didn't join us in the laughing. He went bright red and chastised us. We took that as a challenged and all ran out of the room in mass. We still thought we were hilarious and decided to hide. ...We found the perfect place. We left the school yard and hid in a neighbors garage. They looked for us for about 1/2 hour. They principal finally saw our feet under the garage door and took us back to class where he promptly made the announcement that April Fools Day was over. My memories are that we should have been severely punished, but the teacher and administration gave us the chance to make things right. I felt so bad for what we had done and all my part in the shenanigans. I think because of the way that they responded, I made some decisions that being good was more enjoyable than being bad. I sometimes forget my own good advice, but am grateful to the people in my life path that helped me choose to improve myself rather than seek for shadier choices.

Orchid Afternoon

I was having a pinched heart kind of an afternoon. I know, weird because the weather is perfection! I came into my kitchen to see these beautiful orchids. My angel sister in law RaeLynne brought them to me. That sure unpinched my heart. Thank you RaeLynne! I am going to smile all week as I look at them. They are as big as my fist. What a great afternoon.

An Answer to Prayers

This past fall a life event that I had been dreading came to pass. I was released from the Young Women's program. I knew that day was coming when I was called 6 years previously. I cherished every moment and was sad thinking about the day of release. At Girl's camp this past summer, during one of my many spiritual moments, I recommitted to my Heavenly Father that I would "be what He wants me to be." I felt the words in my heart. "This is not where I need you now." I felt peace on one hand but dread on the other. Where was I headed? I even prayed about my future just before I was released during the Women's Broadcast. I felt such a sweet feeling and the impression that I was needed for a very important work. Then the release came. I speculated that I would be snatched to the Primary as I had heard many rumors already. I thought I would be called to the nursery and though it wasn't my first choice, I could handle that. I have enjoyed Cub Scouts in the past and would have fit right in there also. My biggest dread was being a primary teacher. When I was visiting with a member of the bishopric and he asked me to be a teacher, I threw my shoulders back, inhaled and accepted. In my heart I kept chanting, "Please not the 4 year olds, please not the four year  olds...." It was the 4 year olds. I really struggled with my  heart and finally knelt and asked for help. I knew that the calling I was given was important and special to Heavenly Father and He wanted me to give it my best. I told Him that I wanted my heart to be in the right place but it just wasn't. Could He help me make the adjustment?
   My first week, I approached the row for the class. The other teacher wasn't there yet. I tentatively sat down and was flooded by beautiful girls and handsome boys. They welcomed me so sweetly. I was in love with them within 10 seconds. It continues. We moved up with them and are now the CTR 5 class. We do crazy things, some of which are not exactly what everyone else does, but I can share my testimony with them and my partner. I can truly say I love my calling.

I love these kids

Sometimes we dress up.

My partner in this adventure

We love having outside help.

Pre- Spring

This is kind of a throw back because I have a lot of memories, but I love this pre spring weather. Although I know the temperatures drop to frigid torture and there are still snowy days ahead, it is time for the earth to tilt a new direction and the ground to gently nudge the sleeping plant life to wake up.
   I love the afternoons when I notice that the snow has trickled away and the grass, while still brown, beckons me to step on over and enjoy. The twilight time seems full of excitement. I am pulled outside to celebrate. Although it is still chilly and I really should put on a sweater or jacket. I love the air kissing my arms and making them so cool. Instead of running for my electric blanket I am running in the out of doors. It is so exciting to see the little crowns of green that promise to be tulips, daffodils, hostas and peonies peering up at me as I carefully pull all the winter crud off of them. As a child, I tried so hard to fit 3 hours worth of play into the extra hour of daylight. That pre-spring twilight has a definite color to it. I can feel the color. It is impossible to describe but 'tastes' like purple, lavender, smoky gray, pink with just  a kiss of sunshine gold to it. Here come the nights of sleeping under the life renewing freshness of an open window. Here come the games of tag and movement after being a prisoner of winter. Here come the little bumps on the stretching branches that are ready to explode.
I love Spring!

Come on back my bird friends!

The Right Way To Celebrate Valentines Day

Progress doesn't always mean life is better. We celebrated Valentines Day much differently. I well remember the trip to the store to choose the simple Valentine cards to give to my classmates. They were simple little cards in a perforated sheet that we would carefully fold and tear apart. They had very cheap thin envelopes. Sometimes they were loose cards in a box (that was lidless!) covered in plastic wrap. In the package there were always 2 for teachers and I would carefully pick the right one for my teacher. (If I liked my teacher it was the best one if not....just saying...) We then would spend the nights before Valentines with our class lists. Every Valentine was addressed to someone. There were no generic valentines that were plopped into the masses boxes.  If someone was a good friend, they got a good card. If it was a boy (cooties),.....again. My mother insisted that we give a Valentine to everyone in our class so that no one got their feelings hurt. I never searched the cards given to me to see if every class member had remembered me. It wasn't an issue. I appreciate that my mother taught me to think of others, it wasn't just another rule at school. We were thrilled to carry home our Valentines is the containers that we worked so hard to make at school. For some reason, I really remember the large heart shaped envelop made from butcher paper and staples. We weren't loaded down with candy, just the cards from our classmates. We usually were given a sugar cookie or cupcake from the Room Mother. (Is there such a thing as a Room  Mother any more?)
   Having arrived safely at home and once again examining our cards, the real fun of Valentines began. We really could have done away with the school celebration. Now came the excitement of espionage. We would go through the same routine of choosing the card and writing our friends and neighbor's names on them. Here is where the treats made their showing. Some years, we would have made and decorated fluffy pink sugar cookies. We would put them on a plate with the cards. We had to sneak onto the porch of our intended 'victim'. We had to be quick and quiet. I had some anxiety on years that there was ice on the sidewalks. After everything was in place, we would ring the doorbell or pound a few knock out. Then ..... we RAN. We usually had a safe refuge in advance that we could duck behind. We would listen to hear that the door opened. We loved listening or peaking and seeing the door officiant looking around and trying to catch us. Then we hurried home for the next mission. We loved being home and listening for our own doors to herald the arrival of mysterious treats. We loved the cards and usually got them from all the other children in the neighborhood. Sometimes they were just cards, but at time they were accompanied by heart shaped suckers or candies or lovely sugar cookies. It was an exciting afternoon. We loved sorting our treasures. Then after dusk, we would be enjoying the evening and we would hear a thunderous banging on our front door. I mean the hardest knock you could imagine. It made my heart leap to my throat every year. We always tried to catch the people leaving Valentines and would usually race to catch a glimpse of the perpatator. But that knock would cause me to freeze like a deer in the headlights. As we pulled open the front door, we always found a the best treat of all. It was usually a heart shaped box filled with candy. I don't even know how  or when I realized the gift was from my parents and that my father had been the one to kick the door and run. It seemed like he has been with us the whole time. How could he have been in two places at once? I love and appreciate my parents for making our holidays fun. It seems like once again a fun holiday has been turned into a situation that warrants giving hard earned dollars to the commercial industry. How did children turn into greedy monsters that are only  happy with treats or expensive gifts?When did a simple Valentine card become so undesirable?
(Future post... the string Valentine. )

My Days as a Swinger

   Is there anything as wonderful as the innocence of a child? Although I know that I needed to  improve and gain wisdom and have experiences, it was certainly wonderful to believe that the future was nothing but bright, that all would be well in the end, that Prince Charming would ride up and take me to a happy kingdom, (wait a minute- that one happened!). 
   I loved the carefree days of my youth. Besides all the time I spent playing at the elementary school, I had many hours of peace, solitude and a swinging good time right in my own back yard. If I close my eyes and step around the past 45 years, I can see our yard the way I thought it would always be. Behind the garage was a tall iron swing. The chains seemed to reach the bottom layer of the heavens. The east side of the garage was an untamed wilderness with an old clothesline, perfect for hanging and climbing, staking it's claim in the jungle of trumpet vine and grapes. We could peek through the wooded area to the neighbors yard and wonder why anyone would like living in a place that you couldn't play hard because you might disturb one of the mothers precious plants.
  If you put you hands on the old swing that sported a worn coat of green paint, you would have the textural experience of a thousand little nubbins tickling your hands as you leaned back and swung around the pole. You were usually rewarded with very orange hands from the rust that had taken up residence on that pole. Then you would grab the thick links of the chains and position your bottom to jump onto the swing seat, a thick worn board with splinters and cracks that always added the thrill of wondering if you would come away with a pinch or splinter that you would never be able to tell anyone about. Once properly positioned on the great slab of petrified tree, and with a tippy toe push off the ground, the fantastic journey began. Propelling the swing to the outer limits required the rhythmic swaying back and forth and a strong pull on the chain at the edge of the backward pulse. Legs straight with toes pointed towards the desired destination helped pump the swings to breath taking heights. Within minutes, I was soaring a top speed high above the roof of the garage. Then I would leave all the cares of the day and swing my heart to a happy place. I could solve my problems, plan my life and imagine all kinds of adventures. The amount of time I spent in that swing was equal to my emotional needs.
Oh where is that swing right now? What has replaced the active therapy that I loved in those days. I think it has something to do with chocolate.

The Mad Bombers

What a fantastic day I had yesterday. We caravan-ed it up to Logan for Calvin's blessing. Their chapel was gorgeous. Very historical. We wouldn't all fit on the same bench, so Popie and I sat behind Lamberts on a side bench....with most of the grandchildren. It was a riot. I had two on my lap most of the meeting. They, as usual, proved an entertainment treat. Afterwards, we ate at Steph and Rich's house. While there...of course I take pictures. Let the fun begin.

This is how Elder Johnson will look when the door gets slammed in his face.

From now on, they are photo bombs.

Rich-you made two of the photos.

I was laughing so hard that I am glad this one turned out.

I was trying to photograph a pony...llama photo bomb.

This is a photo-bum.