Too Bright

Before breakfast, Blythe said to me oh so sweetly,

"Mom, Dad and I have a cookie?"

What a schemer!

A Farmer in the Dell (or the Front Yard)

With help from Brandt and little interest from Blythe, I got the garden planted today.  Fortunately (or unfortunately), because we only garden in pots, we have little to plant, so it all goes pretty quickly.  I planted fourteen tomatoes, three peppers, and two cucumbers.  Also basil in two pots and carrots along the sides of the grow boxes.  We never get enough tomatoes from our grow boxes to do canning (I always have to buy a box or two to make pasta sauce and salsa), so this year I decided to try some more interesting varieties of things.  I planted orange and tie dye tomatoes (yellow with red streaks), lilac peppers (they are a deep purple), and dwarf cucumbers that will still produce normal size cucks, but can be grown in pots.  And the great thing about gardening in pots is that should we move in the next couple of months, we can take the garden with us.

In addition to the veg, we also planted flowers in our small bed.  The bed has been grass level, but our sidewalk was raised about four inches, and this year I finally figured out a way to fix things.  I purchased some plastic edgers that I shoved in the ground around the bed, then filled it in.  It required quite a bit of dirt, but it looks good and will make it possible for the yard care guys to mow the grass without running over the flowers.

Brandt was very keen on helping.  After dinner, he put on his snow pants (farmer overalls) and went out to finish up our job.  He helped with the dirt and the watering.  The hose splurched and sprayed him with mud, but he didn't mind at all.  He was proud of his work, including the filling of his pool which he said he was doing because "his grandson was coming over and he would want to swim."

I suppose this needs explaining.  Kent's maternal grandfather, Grandpa Droubay, was a farmer.  He had sheep and lots of land, a huge garden, and a gun.  Brandt feels a close connection to Grandpa Droubay.  He wants to hear stories about him, and he is excited to inherit his .22 when he gets older.  So whenever any "farming" needs to be done, Brandt puts on his Grandpa Droubay persona and gets to work.    He certainly did that today, with good results.

Our farmer at Vineyard Garden where we purchased our veg.  

Our boy is drawn to tractors wherever they are.

Brandt is showing us where he planted the carrots.  

He stuck with that task through the whole packet of seeds.

Our mud splattered farmer.

This picture kills me.

Brandt is so handsome, and he suddenly is looking so grown.  

This is what he's going to look like when he is 20.

Where does the time go?

With the pool.

I wish it was warm enough to actually get in the pool.

The tags on the tomatoes say "full sun," but I'm not sure we're ever going to have full sun again.

A portable garden for a garden-less house.

My "new" little flower bed, filled with geraniums and petunias.  

Our farmer and his tractor.

Pals

I sure love it when these two get along together.  

I also love it when they cooperate when I want to take their picture.

Unlike this one.

A Garage Sale

We had a garage sale on Saturday, along with our two next door neighbors.  As we anticipate moving (someday, when we find a house), I am trying to get rid of stuff I do not want to move, and a garage sale is a good start.  As I have been going through the basement storage and the house at large, I have been making a pile of things to sell.  I have been making the children nervous.  Every day one or the other of them has asked, "Mom, are you going to sell my" and then they ask about something they play with or use every day, like their shoes, or their bed, or their favorite movie.  

We did pretty well.  We made $160, but even better, we cleared out stuff.  Although we did not sell everything, we sold lots and sent the rest to good will when all was said and done.  I was surprised by several things that people bought--a hand massager and an alphabet die cut set--and not surprised by several things that did not sell--an ancient lap top (which I threw away) and two glass flower vases (of which everyone has half a dozen or more).  Brandt was very keen on helping, taking money and giving change, and making sure no one drove away in his green vehicle.

I Spy

It won't stop raining.  All week long, every day, rain, rain, and more rain.  We are tired of being inside.  Mid-week, Brandt and I took a break from watching TV and getting ready for a yard sale (more on that later) to play I Spy.  We sat on the love seat in my bedroom and looked down into the backyard.  Then we took turns  saying, "I spy with my little eye, something fill in the blank with a descriptor word.  Brandt did really well, both guessing and giving clues.  It was wonderful to snuggle his little body (which is getting so big) and play.  Blythe managed to pull herself away from the DVD player, but she isn't quite old enough to play.  When it was her turn to pick, she said, "I spy something pink.  The shovel!"  We are hoping for more sun this week.

Brandt spying.

It was backwards day for his shirt.

Again.

Our very wet backyard from above. 

Look at all the great things to spy.

The children for most of the rest of the week.

Watching movies on the portable DVD player.

Joseph Smith is the Prophet of the Restoration

After I put this post on my other blog, I decided I really wanted it on this one, so I am moving it here.

You don't have to read it again.

I did sharing time today in Primary.  The theme was "Joseph Smith is the Prophet of the Restoration."  I felt that it went so well, even with the junior Primary.  I think the Joseph Smith story, especially when told in his own words from his history, is so powerful, so I shared that with the children.  I read to them about Joseph's desire to know which church to join and his search in the scriptures, then his resolve to take God at his word and ask Him, in faith, what he should do.  I read about the darkness overwhelming Joseph to the point that he thought he was going to die, and then of the miraculous first vision.  

I know Joseph Smith saw Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.  I know Joseph Smith was called to restore the fullness of Christ's gospel on the earth in the latter days.  I know Joseph Smith translated the Book of Mormon and that it is a true record and another testament of Jesus Christ.  I  know the ordinances of the temple, especially the sealing, are saving ordinances that give us the opportunity to return the presence of our Father if we will be faithful.  I am grateful for Joseph's faithfulness, example, and sacrifice, and for the gospel that blesses my life each day.  

I palpably felt the Spirit as I testified to the children, and I hope they felt it too and recognized it as the Spirit.  As I bore my testimony, there was certainly a level of reverence we don't often achieve in our rapidly growing Primary.  I was gratified, too, that Brandt was able to recount significant portions of the Joseph Smith story to Kent as we had dinner.  I think the children get more than I give them credit for.

Discoveries

On Tuesday I made several discoveries.  Three, in fact.

While speaking on the phone in the morning, I was looking out the kitchen window towards our next door neighbors' house and made discovery number one.  Here is what I saw.

This would be this year's registration sticker for our car, stuck to the side of the house.  Our registration expires the end of April, and Tuesday was May 17th.  Brandt watched as I put the sticker on the car when it came in the mail (in April), and he apparently thought it was okay to remove.  I'm not sure why Brandt removed it (which is difficult) or why he stuck it where he did, but I'm glad I noticed it out the window and could replace it.  Following the sticker discovery, I had my first tax talk with Brandt.  And he isn't even five yet.

Discovery number two came as I was preparing stir-fry for dinner.  I brought up the five gallon bucket of rice and opened it to find Woody nestled amongst the grains.  I'm not sure how long he has been in there, but Brandt was certainly delighted by my discovery.  He said, "I wondered where Woody went."

Discovery number three was made as I downloaded pictures.  I have been having problems with the camera for some time.  There are moments when it won't take a picture.  Everything will be illuminated and look as though it is fine, but when I depress the button to take a picture, nothing will happen.  Very frustrating.  Nigh unto shriek inducing (for those of us with short fuses).

Anyway, I was having a hard time getting the camera to work when I wanted to take a picture of Woody, and Kent came home right about the time I was ready to shriek and hurl the camera across the kitchen (which I know would not have helped, but would have likely relieved some pent up frustration).  He made some small sacrifice to the camera gods (or something) and got it to work.  Almost instantly, Blythe said, quite sweetly so as to have a positive response, "Dad, I see the camera?"  He handed it to her and she then proceeded to take pictures of a bit of orange she had been eating.

So the discovery?  Blythe took eighteen--that's right, 18--pictures of this orange.  What is so fascinating about it?  And why would the camera work for her (eighteen times!) when I couldn't get it to work even once for me?

Still life with orange.

More Mother's Day Festivities

Last Saturday, the day before Mother's Day, we went over to Grandma and Grandpa Barrus' house for a picnic.    Both Brandt and Blythe love playing with their cousins.  We tried, fairly unsuccessfully, to get a shot of all the kids together as they played on the slide and tree house.

This is the best shot, but neither of my children is really cooperating.

Snow Cones

After months of eager anticipation, our local snow cone shack is open again.

Yeah!!!

In the past week since they opened, we have already been twice.

Seems to me that is a sure sign of summer.

A Poem

I have been going through boxes, shelves, and drawers trying to clear things out for a yard sale next Saturday (come buy our stuff!) and in anticipation of moving (whenever that happens).  Today I found a sheet of paper containing notes from, I think, a literary theory class I took during college.  I have been saving this piece of paper for over a decade because on it is written my favorite sonnet, in addition to three days worth of incomprehensible scribblings about discourse, signifiers, rhetoric, and some pithy remarks about poetry by John Ciardi who I would say I have never heard of except that there is his name written in my handwriting.  The poem was written by Frank Sidgwick and is non-traditional as far as sonnets go.  Here it is in it's entirety because, as you know, a sonnet is only fourteen lines, so it is not very long.  This will allow me to throw away this piece of paper, thus lightening my packing load and ridding my brain of this obviously useless bit of note taking.  (I wonder if this piece of paper ever did me any good.)

An Aeronaut to His Lady

I
Through
Blue
Sky
Fly
To
You.
Why?
Sweet
Love,
Feet
Move
So
Slow. 

         --Frank Sidgwick

Mother's Day

This picture is a year old, but I couldn't find another more recent.

I need to take more pictures of my mom.

Our sacrament meeting theme today was "Mother's."  (What a surprise!)  A man in our ward, Kyler Black, gave an excellent talk focused on D&C 64:33-34.  

Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work.  And out of small things proceedeth that which is great.  Behold, the Lord requireth the heart and a willing mind; and the willing and obedient shall eat the good of the land of Zion in these last days.

So much of mothering is wearying, and yet small things can bring about great works.  Kyler challenged us to think of a small thing our mother had done for us or taught us and to thank her for that.  As I sat in church, I quickly thought of three things my mom did for me and continues to do for me for which I am especially grateful.

First, my mom instilled in me a love of reading by reading out loud to me from an early age.  She didn't stop doing it, even as I grew older.  I have a fond memory of Mom reading The Count of Monte Cristo out loud to me when I was probably fourteen or fifteen, well past the time when I could read have read the book myself.  It remains one of my favorite books, and reading remains one of my very favorite things to do.  I read to Brandt and Blythe all the time and know that they love that time we spend together too.  I think it is wonderful how that activity has been passed from my mom to me and now to my children.  Reading enriches my life and I am grateful my mom read to me.

Second, my mom prays for me.  Still.  I know when I was young my mom prayed for me--that I would do well on a test, that I would make a new friend, that I would get a part in the school play, that I would become the best me.  As I grew, she prayed that I would gain a testimony, that I would be happy and healthy as I served a mission, that I would be successful in all my pursuits.  She prayed that I would get into graduate school, she prayed that I would pass my comps, and she prayed for me as I wrote my dissertation.  She prayed that I would be reassured in my choice of spouse, and then she prayed for many years as we yearned for the blessing of children but didn't have any.  Now that we have been blessed with two children, she prays that I can be a good mom and teach my children the important things they need to learn, and she prays that we'll find a new home where we should be.  I'm grown.  I'm an adult.  But my mom continues to pray for me, demonstrating her continued love and support.

Third, my mom has set a wonderful example of faithfulness through trials.  My mom has not had it easy.  The past five years have been particularly challenging.  I say that, but I know many years have been tough on my mom.  And yet through it all, Mom has remained faithful to the gospel and to her covenants, and she has not questioned the Lord's wisdom in giving her those challenges.  She turns to Him for support and strength, showing me that although life is difficult, we can continued to lay the foundations of a great work through our small acts of faith.  I think my mom has given God her heart and has a willing mind, and I believe she will eat the good of the land of Zion.  At least I hope she will.  She deserves that reward.

Another year old picture.

In addition to an excellent mother, I also have a fantastic mother-in-law.  No one (and I am serious about this) has a better MIL than me, except Kent's siblings spouses, but we share the same MIL, so that doesn't count.  There are two things that come to mind when I think about what Merlynn has taught me, and as I am not her child and did not grow up in her home, these lessons have come to me later in my life.  

First, Merlynn has been an example to me of patience.  The Brits have the saying "Keep Calm and Carry On," and that personifies Merlynn for me.  She is calm and yet she carries on, doing what needs to be done with little question and no complaint.  In addition, all her children speak of how even tempered she was and how she never raised her voice, never spanked, never had to resort to dire threats or histrionics.  I need (really, really, really need) to follow her example.  

The second thing is to think well of others and never criticize.  I have never heard Merlynn say a negative thing about anyone in all the years I have known her.  The closest she ever came to saying something unkind about someone in my hearing was after a Relief Society birthday dinner.  The food was horrible.  I exaggerate not.  It was awful.  Beyond awful.  It was all inedible.  It was cold, it looked gross, it smelled comparable, and it was presented as a fine meal made especially for our enjoyment.  No one, and I wish to stress this, NO ONE  received any enjoyment whatsoever.  I had all sorts of unkind things to say about the nice (though completely inept) woman who was in charge, and was willing to share my opinion with anyone even mildly interested in what I had to say, but Merlynn was far more kind.  Her only comment was, "A. should have perhaps started her preparations a bit earlier."  Understatement.  I need to do better at seeing the good in others and ignoring the bad thus following Merlynn's fine example.  

More recent picture

I have the blessing of having a third "mom" in my life, Blythe's Grandma Dawn.  Although I am not technically related to Dawn, she looks upon me as a daughter and sees my kids--both of them--as her grandchildren, even though only one of them truly is.  During our acquaintance, Dawn has set an example to me of hope.  She deals with some fairly significant challenges that weigh her down and cause her anxiety, and yet she looks to the Lord and is hopeful.  She believes good can come from the "bad" and is super supportive of our family.  She thinks I'm a great mom, too, which I think is pretty hopeful (as I know I still have a long way to go).

These moms bless me and inspire me to do and be better through the small things they do for me.  I feel my foundation as a mother, wife, and daughter is strengthened by them and I am grateful for their love.  Happy Mother's Day to you! 

Mud Pies

This week has been GLORIOUS!!!  We have not been inside.  Has anyone?  Today we had Jack and Simon Tanner come over after school to play with us while Darren and Heidi went to the temple.  Brandt and Blythe were so excited to have them here, they could not contain themselves.  They were shrieking, saying ridiculous things, following Simon and Jack around, and whacking them with various objects.  I had to take them both apart and tell them to calm down.

In order to get us out of the house lest it implode, I suggested we go outside and run through the sprinklers.  Things got almost immediately out of control and mud began to fly--literally.  No one seemed particularly interested in running through the sprinkler; everyone wanted to hold the hose and spray everyone else with the sprinkler.  The four of them almost came to blows over who was going to wield the hose.

Then the mud became the central focus.  Brandt had been making mud pies before Jack and Simon came so there was a bucket of very muddy water in the garage.  That got overturned and used in my flower bed which, as yet, remains unplanted.  Soon there was a goopy mess some of which Simon scooped into the bucket and threw at Jack.  It all went south from there.  Mud was thrown and dribbled, smeared and squashed.  When things turned really messy, Brandt distanced himself from Jack and Simon, but Blythe got right in there and the three of them ended up covered in mud from head to toe.  I was certain Heidi would not be pleased to arrive home to mudmen, but she took in all in stride as any experienced mom of four boys will.  It was a muddy mess, but lots, lots, lots of fun.  I bet we do it again.

This was the beginning of the mud slinging.

See that nice white t-shirt?

Heidi took the tag off it this morning.

The mud pit.

It got worse.

Jack wielding the hose.

Stand back!

Simon "resting" in the gutter.

 

Brandt did not want his shirt on, and Blythe did not want anything on.   

Brandt was wet when he was leaning on me.  

He wanted me to warm him up. 

 

This is Blythe dancing all around the driveway.

  

Simon and Jack struggling for control of the hose.

 

Mr. Buckethead

  

  

 Brandt did not really want to get into the action quite like everyone else. 

He stayed well away when the mud slinging began, so he isn't nearly as dirty as the other three.

Which is not to say that he isn't dirty, just not as dirty.

In the background, Brandt is sporting swim goggles he got from our next door neighbor.