Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Oh, Brother!



When I was born, I was lucky enough to have a big brother here already. He'd had two years as an only child when I showed up and changed that status.  Maybe because I wore his hand-me-downs and played cowboys and Indians and cops and robbers and Batman and Robin with him, he once told me
 "You are a girl, but you are still my brother."
I considered that the ultimate compliment.
He also told me that the weed that grew by our front steps was a Chicken Pox plant and I better not touch it or I would get the pox.
I considered that sage advice from my all-knowing big brother and steered clear.
He assured me that I would not see the devil's face if I dug too deep in the sandbox,
and pronounced the neighbor kid who told me that a liar.
I slept a little easier after that.
That's what big brothers are for.

One day, when I was 3 and he was 5 we were told we were going to get shot.
At least that's what I heard.
 My Dad packed us in the car and took us to the local grade school where we stood at the back of a long line. I began to cry hysterically because I couldn't believe our own father had brought us to this place to be shot. Jon tried to comfort me with pats on the shoulder and the ridiculous cheerful good news that
"They'll give you a sticker afterwards!"
What good would that do us when we were dead?!
As we got closer my worst fears were confirmed when I saw a big burly man in a white coat holding a gun! Jon bravely stepped up and pulled up his sleeve.
You can't imagine my relief when I saw he was still standing after the pop.
He smiled at me and I decided getting shot may not mean what I thought it meant.
So I calmed down enough to get my rubella shot. And lived to tell the tale.
(Yes, for whatever reason, this shot was administered with an air gun of some kind.)



As we grew up, he went first for other things and made me feel brave when it was my turn.
Like school.
Jr. High seemed especially scary to me. But Jon had been there for two years before me and was a big 9th grader when I showed up as a timid little 7th grader.
One day I was in the hall of good old O'Leary Jr. High desperately trying to open my jammed locker.
Jammed because I had shoved my viola in there earlier and it had fallen against the door.
I was going to be late for class and I could not get it opened.
I was near tears when I saw my big brother coming down the hall.
He saw my predicament and  walked over,
as his very grouchy math teacher yelled,
"Get to class young man!"
He gave the locker a smack with his hand and yanked it open,
He caught the viola as it tipped out and handed it to me,
then turned around and walked calmly  past the scowling teacher and into his math class.

He went to the church dances first and when I was finally old enough, I made him teach me how to slow dance. He tried to reassure me that the technique was a two-step process:
Stand there and sway back and forth.
Yeah, he was right.


He also went to Orem High first and learned to drive first.
He only let me drive his beloved 1963 Studebaker once.
I was still practicing and had to drive with a licensed driver.
I drove a few blocks and it started to rain. He decided that I couldn't drive in those conditions.
So he had me pull over and trade places and he drove us back home.
I consider it a triumph that I got to drive it at all.

He went through a Beatles phase and since our rooms were right next to each other in the basement, I heard quite a bit of the Beatles. I expressed to him my distaste for their so-called hit "Come Together" about toe jam and hair below his knees, got to be good lookin' cuz he's so hard to see,
something, something, disease....
(I know kids, I really can't mock the nonsense lyrics of your day after this)
He took this as his cue to turn up the radio full blast every time it came on.

Not long after Jon got back from his mission, I sent off a missionary. One day I was riding somewhere with Jon and we drove past the guy's house. I started to cry because I was missing him.
Jon said,
"Don't worry, you'll be here when he gets back and he'll shake your hand,
and then shake your husband's hand and pat your little boy on the head."
It made me laugh and I dried my tears.
Well, one Mother's Day some time later, I was at Grandma Hansen's house. That guy came to see her. He 
walked in, shook my hand, shook Andy's hand and patted Scott on the head.
Then he sat down and swapped mission stories with Andy like they were old friends.
So, my brother was right.


I did get the opportunity to pay him back for all of his brotherliness. I happened to play a big part (that's the way I like to tell it anyway) in his winning the love of his life. We moved from one side of Orem to the other and that meant a new ward (OK, one block would have meant a new ward!). I was welcomed warmly into the ward by the Mia Maid class. One in particular was very friendly, a pretty blond named Shellie. She wrote me a long note expressing the fact that she thought my brother was something (cute maybe?). As fate would have it, I had a hole in my coat pocket and the note slipped out and fell right in front of my brother's bedroom doorway. So, he picked it up and read it. Then, he told me to tell her that he liked her too.
So I was their accidental love courier.
It was so romantic and so Jr. High.
They defied all the odds and stayed together through high school (except for that 10 minutes at youth conference) and she wrote to him while he was on a mission in Japan.
The mailman delivered those letters.
And then they got married.
And they've been married ever since...a few months less than me and my husband.
That's one thing I did first.

Happy Birthday Big Brother.
Let's get old...
You  first.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

On the Way to Costco

Sam was riding shotgun on the way to Costco today. He's always a cheerful companion to have along. He jumped right in with this as a conversation starter:

Sam: The missionaries asked me to read the Book of Mormon along with (his friend who is taking the discussions) so I have been reading every night no matter how late it is. I read it on my itouch.

Me: (thinking to myself) This is news to me...I didn't know he was reading along with his friend. (also thinking to myself) maybe that itouch isn't such a total time waster after all.

Sam: So I'm at the part where they just got to the promised land. Mom, I really think that Nephi is amazing. You know how Alma is so all deep with doctrine and stuff, but Nephi is all about doing--he just does what he is supposed to. Something needs to be done, he does it. Like when the Lord tells him to build a ship. He's all "OK where do I find the ore to make the tools." He's not questioning whether he can build a ship or not. He does what he's asked and he builds the ship and it's of unusual and fine craftmanship because he didn't try to make it his way, he listened to the Lord and built it right.

Me: (thinking to myself) I think I need to pinch myself and see if I am dreaming. No, that is my 14 year old son expounding the scriptures to me. Enthusiastically. I might cry. NO DON'T CRY.
Me: (out loud) Yeah, Sam you are so right.

Sam: You know it's so ridiculous that Laman and Lemuel just didn't get it. They were so miserable but they didn't have to be. Why didn't they just ask like Nephi did? I have noticed this myself and I already know that it is so much easier to live the Gospel and be happy. I see it all around me--people who are miserable because they won't do the things that bring real happiness. You know, you would think it would be so obvious to Laman and Lemuel when they tied Nephi up on the ship and they were going to go down in the storm, that they weren't the best ones to be in charge!  You know, it's funny that is says they were acting with much rudeness. That would be so annoying--a bunch of grown-ups too-- acting all rude! As soon as they let Nephi go, even though his hands and legs were swollen, he went straight off to pray. As soon as he was back in charge, they were fine and back on course.  So, what do you think happened to Sam after they got to the promised land? Was he just like, Nephi's sidekick? He was always supportive of Nephi and listened to him. But he was older, maybe he died before Nephi. It must have been so cool for Nephi to have one older brother who was there for him.

Me: (thinking to myself) I'm glad I named you Sam.
Me: (out loud) Sam reminds me of Hyrum--the way they were both older brothers and they were righteous and supportive of their younger brother.

Sam: Yeah, that's so true. You know how you say "know, do, become"? That's exactly what Nephi was like. He wanted to know--so he asked. He saw the vision his father saw and asked all the questions. Then, he was all about doing what he was told, you know "I will go and do..." and then what? He became an amazing leader and prophet to his family and people. It must have been nice for God to have someone like Nephi that he knew he could count on. He could ask him to do anything and he wouldn't hesitate and question. He was all about doing what he was asked.

Me: Yeah, Heavenly Father could really count on Nephi.

Sam: For sure.

By then we were pulling into the parking lot. My heart was overflowing.

On the Way Home from Costco:

Sam: There's this company that makes video games (did he say Activision?) and they put out this game that was an online multi-player. But it had glitches like, a gun that if you had a grenade and you took the pin out and put it back it, you could make the gun explode like a grenade and....( my eyes started glazing over...)

Me: (thinking to myself) ok, he's a 14 year old boy.

And that is fine...my heart is still overflowing.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

Her Father's Daughter

Since Father's Day is tomorrow, at family scripture tonight we talked about how Nephi was born of goodly parents and taught somewhat in all the learning of his father.

Shayla: So Dad, do you have any wisdom to impart to us?

Me: His life is his sermon

Shayla: Oh, a cautionary tale I see!

Dad: Hey!

Me: See they have been taught in the learning of their father.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

You Never Know Who Might Take an Interest in Slugs and Snails

I was feeling a little guilty about  ANOTHER post about my garden. That's how exciting my life is--what can I say. But, take a look at the comment on my last post. You may or may not know her. After she shared her experience, I was sorry I hadn't included the oft-told story of our little slug-eater who shall be nameless. 
I'm sure she would have found it amusing.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

On The Rampage




It's war. It's on. Bring it!
The snails have stepped--slimed over the line and I'm not going to take it anymore!
I spent all those years in the Northwest dealing with slugs. Some the size of my forearm--I am not exaggerating! I kept up on the latest strategies for battling slugs and had my arsenal well stocked. Some of the recommendations from experienced gardeners were a little odd:
"Put out cans of beer, buried up to the rim--slugs love it!"

(This does not mean I had my 'arsenal' well-stocked with beer, I'm just saying it was a suggestion!)
So the old slug is a lush--and what do I do with it once it's tipsy? Take away its keys?

Or:
"Put out crushed nut shells around your plants--the slugs don't like that."
Actually, they considered it a minor inconvenience--easily overcome with copious amounts of that charming ooze they produce by the gallon.

I had boys who were more than willing to give them the salt treatment. In fact, we went through many salt shakers as they were continually left  forgotten, out in the rain after the combat mission was complete.

So, eventually I turned to the strong stuff: Slug Bait. Simple, straightforward and effective.

Now I am gardening in new territory. I got off easy the first year because I had my garden boxes built out on a desolate, dry ledge. It took the snails awhile to realize there was a new oasis in the desert. Then it took them a year to migrate there
Because, you know, they move at a SNAIL'S PACE...

I had begun to delude myself into thinking that I would be an 'organic' gardener here in sunny California. I stuck with it through the first snail sightings in the corn stalks. I bravely plucked them from their contented perch and gave them the old heave-ho over the ledge.
They were cast off to wander in the desert.

But I had to face the fact that I am outnumbered. They invited all of their friends, neighbors and closest relations to my garden of snail delights.
 It has became the Denny's of the snail world:
All you can eat and open all night.
 (Wait a minute--I think that's an insult to the quality of food available in my garden--but we'll let it go.)

My organic garden fantasy turned into a shredded leaf reality. Apparently organic means:
    "Just the way the snails like it!"

Well, no more sister nice guy! This morning I gave the snails notice and the ejection began.
I was Rambo in the vegetable garden.
My weapon of choice?
Slug Bait
My old stand-by.
When it comes down to it, slime is slime, in or out of the shell.






Saturday, June 12, 2010

For Time and All Eternity

The cute photographer got some amazing shots. I realize I am the mother of the bride and can't get enough of all the wedding fun so don't feel obligated to go look at more pictures.
 Unless you want to...they are pretty awesome.
 I'm just saying.
 But then, I am a Mom.

More Wedding Pics...

Sunday, June 6, 2010

One Tiny Girl

Three Protective Uncles
(Shayla took this picture waiting outside  the Salt Lake Temple--Siara and Tyler's wedding day)

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Kinda Like Watching Paint Dry

I admit I'm a bit like an old lady when it comes to my garden...
I like to putter around pulling weeds and looking for any new growth.
I'll even admit that I used to watch the PBS show
"The Victory Garden"
on Saturday mornings.
On purpose.
So the 10 days I was in Utah gave my garden a chance for a big growth spurt without me
there to observe every change.

After:
Before


Before:


After:

I'm sure you are all just riveted by this exciting development...
I can hear you now:
"OK...her garden grew. Yeah, gardens do that. You plant seeds, stuff grows.
Big whoop-de-doo."

I know.
But I still can't help it.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

A Memorable Memorial




The day dawned bright and early with a delicious family breakfast at the Little America--we wanted to beat the crowds and get to our
destination:
Antelope Island



We started out in the Visitor's Center where we learned all about the history and wildlife of the island out in the middle of the Great Salt Lake. The wildlife could be summed up in the familiar song:
"Oh give me a home, where the buffalo roam, and the deer and the antelope play,
where seldom is heard, a discouraging word..."






Oh, except they left out the GNATS!




The truth is, we heard more than a few
DISCOURAGING WORDS

And a lot of slapping and itching!

We set out on our "easy" "family friendly" hike up Buffalo Point Trail,
doing our best to keep ourselves from being eaten alive.
Scott and Sam sprinted to the top and were on their way back just as we approached the summit:
"Head back to the car--there's nothing to see!"
they shouted as they continued to fight off the gnats. Scott took Bailey and they hurried down.
We followed as best we could with the loose gravel slowing our progress.
We all jumped into the car and slammed the doors as we slapped and scratched wildly trying to
eradicate any of the lingering plague.
Scott started the car and spun out as we sped out of the parking lot and back to civilization.
As we were leaving, we saw that hundreds of cars were lined up at the entrance waiting to enjoy their Memorial Day on Antelope Island.
We felt helpless to warn them:
Turn Back! Abandon Hope all Ye Who Enter Here!

PS: We came up with a PLAN B and went to Park City where we enjoyed the Alpine Slide and Bailey had fun on the merry-go-round. Then we had our BBQ in a random park where Baily and the uncles had fun playing on the playground.



These pictures are from the day before--we all had a good time playing in the park near
Austin and Shanna's


You are never too old--or too tall to swing!


Bailey got to swing to her heart's content

Uncle Shane and Uncle Sam walkin' Bailey back home.

Happy Birthday Scott!

 It has been awhile since I updated this little family scrapbook on the internet. I like to pop over here from time to time and look at our ...