Hi, if you know me, I've lost your email. Send me an email please. The computer is resurrected but the info on it is not yet recovered, and when it is, it will be indecipherable (e.g., File 1, File 2, File 3, etc.). So, I'd like to have your email address. hivalerie at gmail dot com
Today I got in the blackberries, rhubarb and asparagus. I planted it all in the "old garden"--the one that is part of the actual yard of the house, because the slim chance we'll ever own this house is still much fatter than the chance we'll own this house and the pasture alongside.
We had a grand old time with an all-grownup outing with the Mitchells and the Oaks tonight. We went to dinner at the Blue Iguana, and then we were so loud laughing in the Nielsen's Frozen Custard that the teenagers were even looking annoyed. Talk about role reversal. We were making fun of how the young kids of today are recycling all the old stuff, from music to clothes. I complained that silly goth chicks of today look identical to the silly goth chicks of my youth (such as myself).
It is all I can do when I drive by one in my minivan full of screaming children not to roll down the window and yell, "Look at me, heavy-metal girlfriend! This is YOU in 15 years! Ha Ha HA!!"
On a completely unrelated topic, here's my thought for today, in reference to lilacs:
"Gratitude is a Spirit-filled principle. It opens our minds to a universe permeated with the richness of a living God. Through it, we become spiritually aware of the wonder of the smallest things, which gladden our hearts with their messages of God's love. This grateful awareness heightens our sensitivity to divine direction. When we communicate gratitude, we can be filled with the Spirit and connected to those around us and the Lord. Gratitude inspires happiness and carries divine influence."
(Bonnie D. Parkin, "Gratitude: A Path to Happiness," Ensign, May 2007, 35)
Today was a pretty happy day.
PS, All y'alls comments really cheer me up and make me laugh. Thanks!
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
What the lilacs mean
Today I got very muddy. This morning, mom and I went to J&L Garden and bought strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, asparagus and rhubarb. With the exception of the strawberries, this is clearly a long-term investment. I'm showing the Lord I'm serious about making this place my own.
At 4 p.m. I had the ridiculously unrealistic idea (as is my trademark) that I could get these all in the ground today. What really happened is I got in the raspberries and we had a late dinner.
Getting in the raspberries sounds so simple, but it required mowing a patch by the sunny fence, raking it out, rototilling 3-4x over, deciding I really meant to put it on the opposite (pasture) side of the fence), repeating these first steps, digging 10 holes, putting 2T of root stimulant in each and separating a large mass of roots in one pot into 10 canes. Then came the actual putting them in the ground part, and watering them in. Then cleaning up.
This is getting to the time of year where many hours of yard work every day are going to be required to live the dream we came here to live. Despite the already-present aches from my yanking on a stubborn Craigslist lawnmower starter WAY too many times today, I really, really love it.
My spouse, who is far more private with his mental demons than I am, also finds great solace in the lugging of wood and the bagging of leaves. For both of us, it is our own little white house on the hill, our personal funny farm.
Today I found particular enjoyment hearing myself utter the phrase, "Sophie, go up and get me the hoe out of the front shed, please." There would be something I haven't said before, and not just because I now have two sheds. Back in LA that would have been more like, "Soph, don't go outside of the gates because you'll be run over or fall within eyesight of the pervs in front of the porn store." We're movin' on up.
However, there were some conversations, some assessments, let's vaguely say, which led to greater, discouraging understanding of the state of those unimportant, worldly things today that, however eternally irrelevant, threaten our earthly peace to destroy (that awkward sentence will be even more awkward for people not familiar with LDS hymns).
Anyway, David became somewhat glowery, as he is wont to do under such news, and I threw myself into yard work.
Several weeks ago I decided that the only thing missing in this idyllic scenario we've just been handed is a lilac tree. I almost bought one, but it seemed frivolous and would take years to be what I really wanted it to be. Lilacs hold enormous significance for me, they just drip with bittersweet Bountiful childhood nostalgia, along with that amazing scent and comforting color.
In the back corner of our yard, back behind the shed, is a very large, tall bush. I've been watching the bush carefully as little green things have begun popping up all over. I was waiting to find out if it really was--if it could be--what I really hoped it would be.
Because all around the house and in the yard are little tokens of things that show me that God knows me, that he is working in my life. They give evidence to the fact He is directing my life as I've prayed for him to take over and do. They are little things that would probably seem silly to you, but as they have piled up, I have really seen them as nothing less than tokens of affection from a loving God, a reassurance that everything really will be okay and He's in charge.
So, in short, I spent some time scrutinizing the bush today. Then went in and told David, "It's a lilac. Everything is going to be okay."
He actually nodded.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Grapes, heaters and irrigation
As you may be able to tell, I've been a bit of a mope of late, even though I have my dream life here and everything. There are some rather stressful things going on, but mostly it boils down to the true principle that wherever you go, there you are. You can take the Valerie out of the depressing place, but you can't take the depressed place out of the Valerie.
I got a blessing recently and it was short and simple. It said: 1) pray a lot--several times a day, every time you are frustrated, sad, tired, ready to scream, ready to binge, etc., and 2) get enough rest. I spent quite a bit of time today on my knees while Noah and Lucy took turns climbing up my backside (using my legs as stairs) and walking across my back to leap gleefully onto the bed.
Prayer and sleep. Good advice for anyone, yet so hard to do sometimes, when the brownies are between me and the bedroom where I mean to go and pray. I fall prey to clinging to the false god of chocolate and sugar. I can see Elijah mocking me in the day of judgment as he did the priests of Baal--"How long halt ye between two opinions? If the Lord be God, follow him: but if Chocolate, then follow him. . . call ye on the name of your chocolate god, and I will call on the name of the Lord: and the God that answereth by fire, let him be God." (And the god that answers with stomachache, let him be accursed.) (Ref: 1 King 18:21, with presumptuous changes)
Time outside does much to help my ailing mental health. Two days ago I spent hours pulling wild grapevines out of two large pine trees and redirecting them over our rameumptom, which apparently was a wooden thing designed to have a slide attached, but the slide never got attached, so now it is just a perilously wiggly contraption the baby likes to climb up (and fall off of). Now it is covered in wires and grape vines, hopefully she'll be deterred. Three of us (David, me and Elaine) named it that independently of one another, so it must truly be one. I'll take pics for Sunday.
Our chicks arrived on Tuesday and are peeping in Elaine's garage under a heat lamp. We went over today and harrassed them with petting and grabbing. Helping Noah, I had flashbacks of murdering a hamster when I was the same age (it died after I left, so I didn't know of my crime until years later). I told Elaine to watch the chicks after we left, and spent the whole visit pleading, "Not tight, Noah, not tight!" They were cute and dumb, like chicks are. Soon they'll be ugly and dumb, and then kind of homey and dumb. Then some of them will be dinner.
It's been raining so we haven't done a ton outside. The irrigation water was to have been turned on last week and it never really came in, just a trickle, and I've been purposefully wandering the property testing spigots and popping in Rainbirds to see where was getting what by way of water, then making some changes, then repeating the process. Turns out there was a leak up the street and they'd had it turned off again to fix it. When I went to turn it on today we now have the opposite problem with some outlets we can't totally shut off. With all the rain, it's been a wet day.
The Lord has given me my dream situation even though we can't buy right now, and that really is a sign that He hears my prayers and helps things come together for my good even when everything isn't ready to fall into place. That doesn't keep me from moping about how I want to own this house, which is completely ungrateful and dumb. But I was cured of that on Wednesday when the heater broke, and the landlords had to spend all day on the phone with various people (it happened after they switched out our electrical meter). Then they had to shell out $600 (It's a pretty fancy heater) to fix it, then they had to spend the next day scrambling to solve our irrigation problems.
All of a sudden I realized that in some situations, a renter is the customer, and the landlord becomes the servant (and the checkbook). If that kind of surprise expenditure is what homeownership is about, and I hear that it is, we have no business owning a home right now, and I'm content (today).
I've done a lot more research into voice teaching and the short explanation is there are a lot of gimmicky teachers out there (with recording keepsakes, SLS "certification" - total garbage), and I didn't want to compete on that territory. I decided I will run my voice studio as straight classical training, the way I think one ought to be run, and market it the best I can (explaining why one would prefer "old school"), but I need to have a take-it-or-leave-it attitude toward getting students, and over the years, maybe build up to a decent-sized studio.
I do believe that old cliche that if you are classically trained, you can sing anything, and that trying to start with pop, country, rock, and even musical theater is like sticking a branch in the ground and calling it a tree rather than having real vocal roots that grow into that branch. Even the lead singer from Iron Maiden was classically trained, among many, many non-classical others.
I am impressed with folks on American Idol the few times I've seen it, but I also see that some things are vocally very difficult for them that would be no problem if they had a little Bel Canto under their belts. And I really believe it is not so much about talent, it's about training and work. If everyone studied singing like everyone studied math, we'd have a world of fabulous singers, all talent aside. Also, now that I'm practicing much more myself (piano and singing), I am remembering how to sing and play am enjoying music much more than I did as an occassional, rusty performer.
I also don't know how much fun it would be to teach a bunch of teens that want to be the next American Idol. But, the one student I have now, who is a classically trained ballet dancer and wants to be a classical singer, and is serious about her study, has a lovely tone, and I'm willing to wait if I can get a studio full of those.
Which leads me back to having to try more immediate ways to help out financially. I'm continuing to push on doors, but this time, mainly ones that allow me to stay home if I can.
I left off posting daily because I wanted to write in my journal. Guess what, big surprise, I haven't. So, I'm going to try to post here more often. It's better than sulking with a pan of brownies.
I got a blessing recently and it was short and simple. It said: 1) pray a lot--several times a day, every time you are frustrated, sad, tired, ready to scream, ready to binge, etc., and 2) get enough rest. I spent quite a bit of time today on my knees while Noah and Lucy took turns climbing up my backside (using my legs as stairs) and walking across my back to leap gleefully onto the bed.
Prayer and sleep. Good advice for anyone, yet so hard to do sometimes, when the brownies are between me and the bedroom where I mean to go and pray. I fall prey to clinging to the false god of chocolate and sugar. I can see Elijah mocking me in the day of judgment as he did the priests of Baal--"How long halt ye between two opinions? If the Lord be God, follow him: but if Chocolate, then follow him. . . call ye on the name of your chocolate god, and I will call on the name of the Lord: and the God that answereth by fire, let him be God." (And the god that answers with stomachache, let him be accursed.) (Ref: 1 King 18:21, with presumptuous changes)
Time outside does much to help my ailing mental health. Two days ago I spent hours pulling wild grapevines out of two large pine trees and redirecting them over our rameumptom, which apparently was a wooden thing designed to have a slide attached, but the slide never got attached, so now it is just a perilously wiggly contraption the baby likes to climb up (and fall off of). Now it is covered in wires and grape vines, hopefully she'll be deterred. Three of us (David, me and Elaine) named it that independently of one another, so it must truly be one. I'll take pics for Sunday.
Our chicks arrived on Tuesday and are peeping in Elaine's garage under a heat lamp. We went over today and harrassed them with petting and grabbing. Helping Noah, I had flashbacks of murdering a hamster when I was the same age (it died after I left, so I didn't know of my crime until years later). I told Elaine to watch the chicks after we left, and spent the whole visit pleading, "Not tight, Noah, not tight!" They were cute and dumb, like chicks are. Soon they'll be ugly and dumb, and then kind of homey and dumb. Then some of them will be dinner.
It's been raining so we haven't done a ton outside. The irrigation water was to have been turned on last week and it never really came in, just a trickle, and I've been purposefully wandering the property testing spigots and popping in Rainbirds to see where was getting what by way of water, then making some changes, then repeating the process. Turns out there was a leak up the street and they'd had it turned off again to fix it. When I went to turn it on today we now have the opposite problem with some outlets we can't totally shut off. With all the rain, it's been a wet day.
The Lord has given me my dream situation even though we can't buy right now, and that really is a sign that He hears my prayers and helps things come together for my good even when everything isn't ready to fall into place. That doesn't keep me from moping about how I want to own this house, which is completely ungrateful and dumb. But I was cured of that on Wednesday when the heater broke, and the landlords had to spend all day on the phone with various people (it happened after they switched out our electrical meter). Then they had to shell out $600 (It's a pretty fancy heater) to fix it, then they had to spend the next day scrambling to solve our irrigation problems.
All of a sudden I realized that in some situations, a renter is the customer, and the landlord becomes the servant (and the checkbook). If that kind of surprise expenditure is what homeownership is about, and I hear that it is, we have no business owning a home right now, and I'm content (today).
I've done a lot more research into voice teaching and the short explanation is there are a lot of gimmicky teachers out there (with recording keepsakes, SLS "certification" - total garbage), and I didn't want to compete on that territory. I decided I will run my voice studio as straight classical training, the way I think one ought to be run, and market it the best I can (explaining why one would prefer "old school"), but I need to have a take-it-or-leave-it attitude toward getting students, and over the years, maybe build up to a decent-sized studio.
I do believe that old cliche that if you are classically trained, you can sing anything, and that trying to start with pop, country, rock, and even musical theater is like sticking a branch in the ground and calling it a tree rather than having real vocal roots that grow into that branch. Even the lead singer from Iron Maiden was classically trained, among many, many non-classical others.
I am impressed with folks on American Idol the few times I've seen it, but I also see that some things are vocally very difficult for them that would be no problem if they had a little Bel Canto under their belts. And I really believe it is not so much about talent, it's about training and work. If everyone studied singing like everyone studied math, we'd have a world of fabulous singers, all talent aside. Also, now that I'm practicing much more myself (piano and singing), I am remembering how to sing and play am enjoying music much more than I did as an occassional, rusty performer.
I also don't know how much fun it would be to teach a bunch of teens that want to be the next American Idol. But, the one student I have now, who is a classically trained ballet dancer and wants to be a classical singer, and is serious about her study, has a lovely tone, and I'm willing to wait if I can get a studio full of those.
Which leads me back to having to try more immediate ways to help out financially. I'm continuing to push on doors, but this time, mainly ones that allow me to stay home if I can.
I left off posting daily because I wanted to write in my journal. Guess what, big surprise, I haven't. So, I'm going to try to post here more often. It's better than sulking with a pan of brownies.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Door number three . . . ?
It looks like my job hunt has led me to the job of professional door pusher. I've explained to the Lord that this doesn't pay well, I assume He's looking into that for me.
My landlords nixed the daycare plan, as they would be liable for any harm which may befall a child on their property, and they're savvy enough to know that waivers are useless in court.
Although I've been asked by a couple of people to teach voice (I have one student here already), I've declined on the basis that I don't have my masters yet. I think my training and experience would at least equate to a second bachelor's degree, but realistically, I've just been having kids for the past several years and have been out of play and, by LA standards, I believe I am unqualified to teach.
But, having the daycare door closed and the clock ticking, I got a list of area vocal teachers and started calling to get the scoop. What I learned from this effort is that many of them don't know what they are doing and I can match or beat experience with most of them. For those who do know what they are doing, they have no marketing abilities. On the experience side, this was a surprise to me.
(Also in this effort, I found a couple of advanced teachers who I am looking at for my own teacher, both professors at the U, which would help if I did go for the masters soon.)
So, I decided I'd test the market a bit for students. At the same time, I'll be working on the Davis County teaching thing for the fall. If I can resurrect the old marketing person in me and get enough students, I won't have to leave the kids in the fall. But if not, I'll have a backup plan.
We have some other doors we're pushing on. I won't (can't) bore you with them because they involve my paranoidly secretive husband. Some would be very helpful, please pray for his success.
Everybody is well and happy, much less mopey and cynical than in weeks past. We are loving the constant parade of family and friends. David's brother Danny and his wife Jessica brought their Guitar Hero game guitar over last night and we discovered the joys of the two-person guitar battle. Very fun. I'll post pics this week.
Tonight we invited ourselves over to Cousin Kim and husband Mark's house (2 blocks away) and we had a fun chat. Mark is a Church historian and it's enlightening to talk with him. Basically, most of those cultural assumptions and warm fuzzy church history stories you've heard are mainly not true, but the church still is.
I'm sorry I'm so lame with my Thursday food entries on my Mamamelodrama. It feels good not to have a computer-centered life, but it means I forget about the deadlines I've set for myself. I'll try to keep up this week.
Love to all,
Valerie
My landlords nixed the daycare plan, as they would be liable for any harm which may befall a child on their property, and they're savvy enough to know that waivers are useless in court.
Although I've been asked by a couple of people to teach voice (I have one student here already), I've declined on the basis that I don't have my masters yet. I think my training and experience would at least equate to a second bachelor's degree, but realistically, I've just been having kids for the past several years and have been out of play and, by LA standards, I believe I am unqualified to teach.
But, having the daycare door closed and the clock ticking, I got a list of area vocal teachers and started calling to get the scoop. What I learned from this effort is that many of them don't know what they are doing and I can match or beat experience with most of them. For those who do know what they are doing, they have no marketing abilities. On the experience side, this was a surprise to me.
(Also in this effort, I found a couple of advanced teachers who I am looking at for my own teacher, both professors at the U, which would help if I did go for the masters soon.)
So, I decided I'd test the market a bit for students. At the same time, I'll be working on the Davis County teaching thing for the fall. If I can resurrect the old marketing person in me and get enough students, I won't have to leave the kids in the fall. But if not, I'll have a backup plan.
We have some other doors we're pushing on. I won't (can't) bore you with them because they involve my paranoidly secretive husband. Some would be very helpful, please pray for his success.
Everybody is well and happy, much less mopey and cynical than in weeks past. We are loving the constant parade of family and friends. David's brother Danny and his wife Jessica brought their Guitar Hero game guitar over last night and we discovered the joys of the two-person guitar battle. Very fun. I'll post pics this week.
Tonight we invited ourselves over to Cousin Kim and husband Mark's house (2 blocks away) and we had a fun chat. Mark is a Church historian and it's enlightening to talk with him. Basically, most of those cultural assumptions and warm fuzzy church history stories you've heard are mainly not true, but the church still is.
I'm sorry I'm so lame with my Thursday food entries on my Mamamelodrama. It feels good not to have a computer-centered life, but it means I forget about the deadlines I've set for myself. I'll try to keep up this week.
Love to all,
Valerie
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
A life of corrections
The financial plan for our family of late has been to "push on doors" so to speak, and see what opens. Over the past several years, I have learned to quit getting emotional about door pushing. I visualize myself walking down a long hallway, and calmly pushing on door after door. Not, as I once did, jumping up and down in excited fear or anxiety, screaming, "Will it open?! Is it this one!? If it doesn't open, we might DIE!" What I've also learned is that most doors do not open, but it's a numbers game.
So, this teaching thing came up as an idea where, even though it would be sad to leave the kids, especially when I still have little ones, I figured it was necessary. I've been trying to be positive about it and see the benefits, although going to work and leaving my family is not something I honestly want to do. I can't say I went in feeling enthusiastic on Monday, but I had my game face on, and I have a good game face.
So, Monday the director met with me first and said that the Jr. High English teaching position that I'd interviewed for wasn't opening up after all, and that she'd filled the 6th grade teaching job before she learned the English job wasn't really there, although there may be one for the following year. (Oh, how I didn't want to teach 6th grade, but that was me keeping options open). So, she said that next year was full after all, and since I was doing the instructor thing for the next 7 weeks just to get familiar with the school, she'd leave it up to me if I still wanted to do it.
Well, it was in Elementary Ed, which is not my interest (please don't bring up here that I homeschool elementary children). It pays $10/hr, which at 4 hours a day, doesn't do much for us financially. And I'd left a tearfully screaming baby to come in that morning, so after verifying with the elementary coordinator that she wasn't desperate for help or anything, I said I'd rather not.
I drove home feeling mildly relieved but resolved to the fact that the rest of the day would be spent finding new doors to push on. It looks like David may be preparing for the Utah bar, and since that takes time and money, I needed to come up with a way I can help in the interim.
I could start subbing Secondary Ed here in just days, but they pay $67/day for B.A.s to sub! (Yep, that's $8/hr--how we value education). I could be a cashier at Kohls and get benefits with that pay just working PT. The value to teaching in the fall was to be the benefits, but even that pays $36K/yr for a first year teacher. And that $17/hr, after taxes and day care expenses for multiple children, comes out to well under $10 also.
Don't think me a snob for saying the 30s are low, but I was interviewing to almost triple that in CA and would hope to at least double that in UT if I went back to corporate life, which is a door I've decided not to even push on. I'd have to say farewell to any glimpse of family life to go there, and frankly, unless you work for some kind of do-good organization, it can be a meaningless farce of an existence to revolve your whole life around hoping people waste their money to buy more of your brand of widget.
Also, all these plans relied at least a bit on the fact that David works from home, but for him to maximize his time and future prospects, he really shouldn't be watching kids during office hours.
Sunday my cousin told me that several women in the ward make $3000 or more a month with family day cares. She had a lot of details on it because one of these women told her all about it and thought she should do it. This same lady has a long waiting list and has filled 3 other daycares with her waiting list. Plus, that $3000 is virtually tax-free, because she writes off everything in her house that she uses for her daycare (and she stores daycare items in every room of her house for that purpose).
I can't tell you how swiftly I dismissed this idea mentally, even as I've gone through the steps of "pushing on the door." Although I liked doing music class and field trips and planning curriculum, I am not a kid person, and not doing so great with my own kids, let alone adding more.
I'll spare you all the details of all of the rules and laws and paperwork and phone calls I've made in the process of pushing this door, but in the end, it does look like the best way to make the most money and have the best result for my family. I can only have 6 other kids, since I have two of my own under 5 and 8 kids is the max for one person, including them. Still, it will be about $2600 a month, just under $15 an hour, with the potential of no additional tax liability, and possibly even cutting into David's taxes. And, I get to stay with Lucy and Noah. And, I will be compelled to do all the fun activities and curriculum with them that I have piles of in my house but no structure or self-discipline to do.
And when I think of it, my kids are easier when they have friends over to play with. I am also nicer when other children are here, because you can't yell when other kids are present, they might discover that you are a mean mommy and tell their mommies. The other moms around here who do daycare say their kids love it, and they hate weekends because they miss their friends.
I can offer a fun farm experience, with chickens and planting (and later, eating), and bread baking and music classes and sign language and some great preschool programs, and these are things I'd like to do more actively for my own kids but have not been motivated enough to get my act together. Plus, I don't have to answer to any employer demanding this report before I go home, living in a cubicle, etc.
But I'm sure it will be exhausting and take time to get into the routine. I will be watching 10 children until school starts (counting my own). I also have had to face my very unflattering prejudice that I have always assumed daycare moms to not necessarily be educated, ambitious people. But, where has all my education and ambition got me? I've been sleeping in like a drunk for weeks, for heaven's sake! And who is to say that children don't deserve all the benefits of my education and ambition?
If I just put my old, outgoing MEPAF game on (a persona that somehow fell out of the van and died along the highway in route to Utah) I am sure it will be super fun and we all will be better for it.
So, this door appears to be opening and seems viable, but that's all I can say at this point.
I'm starting to really understand the Zen concept of expectations being the root of all unhappiness. To not expect means always to be able to accept things as they happen and people as they are. Call me the Buddhist Mormon Mama.
So, this teaching thing came up as an idea where, even though it would be sad to leave the kids, especially when I still have little ones, I figured it was necessary. I've been trying to be positive about it and see the benefits, although going to work and leaving my family is not something I honestly want to do. I can't say I went in feeling enthusiastic on Monday, but I had my game face on, and I have a good game face.
So, Monday the director met with me first and said that the Jr. High English teaching position that I'd interviewed for wasn't opening up after all, and that she'd filled the 6th grade teaching job before she learned the English job wasn't really there, although there may be one for the following year. (Oh, how I didn't want to teach 6th grade, but that was me keeping options open). So, she said that next year was full after all, and since I was doing the instructor thing for the next 7 weeks just to get familiar with the school, she'd leave it up to me if I still wanted to do it.
Well, it was in Elementary Ed, which is not my interest (please don't bring up here that I homeschool elementary children). It pays $10/hr, which at 4 hours a day, doesn't do much for us financially. And I'd left a tearfully screaming baby to come in that morning, so after verifying with the elementary coordinator that she wasn't desperate for help or anything, I said I'd rather not.
I drove home feeling mildly relieved but resolved to the fact that the rest of the day would be spent finding new doors to push on. It looks like David may be preparing for the Utah bar, and since that takes time and money, I needed to come up with a way I can help in the interim.
I could start subbing Secondary Ed here in just days, but they pay $67/day for B.A.s to sub! (Yep, that's $8/hr--how we value education). I could be a cashier at Kohls and get benefits with that pay just working PT. The value to teaching in the fall was to be the benefits, but even that pays $36K/yr for a first year teacher. And that $17/hr, after taxes and day care expenses for multiple children, comes out to well under $10 also.
Don't think me a snob for saying the 30s are low, but I was interviewing to almost triple that in CA and would hope to at least double that in UT if I went back to corporate life, which is a door I've decided not to even push on. I'd have to say farewell to any glimpse of family life to go there, and frankly, unless you work for some kind of do-good organization, it can be a meaningless farce of an existence to revolve your whole life around hoping people waste their money to buy more of your brand of widget.
Also, all these plans relied at least a bit on the fact that David works from home, but for him to maximize his time and future prospects, he really shouldn't be watching kids during office hours.
Sunday my cousin told me that several women in the ward make $3000 or more a month with family day cares. She had a lot of details on it because one of these women told her all about it and thought she should do it. This same lady has a long waiting list and has filled 3 other daycares with her waiting list. Plus, that $3000 is virtually tax-free, because she writes off everything in her house that she uses for her daycare (and she stores daycare items in every room of her house for that purpose).
I can't tell you how swiftly I dismissed this idea mentally, even as I've gone through the steps of "pushing on the door." Although I liked doing music class and field trips and planning curriculum, I am not a kid person, and not doing so great with my own kids, let alone adding more.
I'll spare you all the details of all of the rules and laws and paperwork and phone calls I've made in the process of pushing this door, but in the end, it does look like the best way to make the most money and have the best result for my family. I can only have 6 other kids, since I have two of my own under 5 and 8 kids is the max for one person, including them. Still, it will be about $2600 a month, just under $15 an hour, with the potential of no additional tax liability, and possibly even cutting into David's taxes. And, I get to stay with Lucy and Noah. And, I will be compelled to do all the fun activities and curriculum with them that I have piles of in my house but no structure or self-discipline to do.
And when I think of it, my kids are easier when they have friends over to play with. I am also nicer when other children are here, because you can't yell when other kids are present, they might discover that you are a mean mommy and tell their mommies. The other moms around here who do daycare say their kids love it, and they hate weekends because they miss their friends.
I can offer a fun farm experience, with chickens and planting (and later, eating), and bread baking and music classes and sign language and some great preschool programs, and these are things I'd like to do more actively for my own kids but have not been motivated enough to get my act together. Plus, I don't have to answer to any employer demanding this report before I go home, living in a cubicle, etc.
But I'm sure it will be exhausting and take time to get into the routine. I will be watching 10 children until school starts (counting my own). I also have had to face my very unflattering prejudice that I have always assumed daycare moms to not necessarily be educated, ambitious people. But, where has all my education and ambition got me? I've been sleeping in like a drunk for weeks, for heaven's sake! And who is to say that children don't deserve all the benefits of my education and ambition?
If I just put my old, outgoing MEPAF game on (a persona that somehow fell out of the van and died along the highway in route to Utah) I am sure it will be super fun and we all will be better for it.
So, this door appears to be opening and seems viable, but that's all I can say at this point.
I'm starting to really understand the Zen concept of expectations being the root of all unhappiness. To not expect means always to be able to accept things as they happen and people as they are. Call me the Buddhist Mormon Mama.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Overdue update
I didn't die, but my computer did, which made any emailing/blogging hard, as the one usable computer is housed in David's office/Lucy's bedroom, which gives me between 6 p.m. and 8 p.m. to use it, which is just about the time I am doing a thousand other things at once to feed people and get them in bed.
Yesterday, after a wonderfully long, hard day (more on that below), I told David I was tired. He said, "Well, tomorrow you only have two things to do: get up with everybody and do everything." What a sweet guy.
Ben is loving his life, he is so free and running around all the time, it has helped his behavior. He is happier, and I see him a lot less, and I don't know if that is a coincidence or not.
Sophie is great, looked so grown-up in her brand-new "Easter" dress (ie., week-after-Easter-is-cheaper dress). I'll have to get a picture for you. Her hair and legs are just growing longer and longer. Ma-in-law tested her and we have officially determined to have her stay in the Utah age range and do 1st grade over again next year. We applied to have her in Ma-in-law's class, and so far are approved to get her in that school, but waiting to hear if she'll go in the class. The school is way on the other side of town and probably not a long-term place for us, so if she's not in grandma's class, I don't know that it would make sense.
Noah is also just thrilled with his new life. He and Lucy are just out there with the rest of them, playing with the neighbors in back (we share a backyard fence, and they run around together all day) or the neighbors on the other side of the pasture, where Ben plays quite a bit, and their 3 YO Colton comes over often to play with Noah. He says he asked his mom, but I'm guessing it doesn't really matter since they are just outside in the pasture right between our houses. It really is a dream, I actually can just say, "I'll call you in for dinner." I was going to sign everyone up for various sports and music lessons, but I'm waiting. I'm enjoying my empty schedule and not spending that money.
Lucy's main word is "Shu!" Shu!" Which is her demand after being dressed each morning, because she wants to go outside and knows she needs shoes to do it. I assume she'll start talking more eventually.
I start a new job tomorrow as an instructor at a local charter school: Legacy Preparatory Academy. I'll be working PT in the mornings, mainly with the elementary kids doing 1-on-1 testing for end-of-year. Then it looks hopeful that I'd have a job teaching Jr. High English there in the fall FT. It pays about half of what I'd ask for if I went back into dumb corporate life, which is lame, but we think it will be more family friendly hours-wise. If I have to work, it seems like a better long-term solution.
It was a great confidence booster to be offered the immediate position in my interview! The interview had between 2-3 interviewers and was 90 minutes and rather rigorous ("Please summarize for us the last book you read," and "How would you incorporate the Logic phase of the Classical Trivium when teaching Call of the Wild or Lord of the Flies to Jr. High students," Thank heaven I'm well-versed in the trivium--thanks, homeschooling!). I stood up after having the short-term offer and said, "Well, I've had worse interviews," to which one of the interviewers, the only man, responded exasperatedly, "So have we!" Maybe I shouldn't be flattered, good teachers are maybe just hard to come by.
The school has a reputation of being a little bit snooty. However, the school is based on the classical education home schooling philosophy I've always held as my standard of education for my kids (outlined in The Well-Trained Mind). So, that's exciting. I'll be working on my credential as I go, with a provisional license from the state until I'm done.
Yesterday was the best day. It was finally warm enough to work outside, and we did, all day. I worked mainly on the front yard, although we did end up planting lettuce, peas and spinach in the west garden just as the sun went down. When we finished, I stood up and walked around the yard and pasture in the almost-dark, just amazed at how it's such a glorious dream come true, and realizing that I couldn't remember a day where I was sad to see the sun set on it, because I so loved what I was doing. Beats out Prozac any day (although today proves it only has short-term efficacy.)
On a sad note, I learned today that the owners of our home are in the process of buying the house and land just north of us, which means they will have access to their land-locked space in the middle of the block, so they'll now be free to build house to house and develop all these lots to death once our lease is up in 2 years. I've been holding out the unrealistic idea that I'd be in a position to buy this place at that time, so I'll be crying myself to sleep over that tonight. I secretly hoped we'd never have to move again, and can't bear the thought of making the kids leave here.
Well, back to brighter things, I have some pictures for you. This is a gigantic, old grape vine that is crawling up one of our gigantic, old pines. I'm going to try to get it down and retrain it to something more accessible than a 50-ft tree.
Just last week or so, it snowed, and my kids (unlike all the other kids here, who are DONE with snow) enjoyed it thoroughly. Here's Noah and Sophie.
This was our yard before, covered with about 2 year's worth of maple leaves:
We started the long process of putting them in piles
David trimmed the hedge (thanks for the hedger, Mosses!)
Lucy and Sophie bagged leaves (well, about a half a bag between them)
From the front yard alone, there were 10 huge leaf bags. We put them in the "forest" on the right of our driveway.
Here is our glorious new front yard!
Leaf free path!
Still has this random, ivy-covered monster on the left. I'm waiting for some buds on it to bloom and try to impress me before I hack it down and replace it with something else.
We decided to use most of the existing henhouse structure, so the pictures won't be as dramatic. Here is before (covered in even more grapevines!).
And here is after, roof-free.
Inside view
That night, I started all my tomatoes, 72 plants. Although I should have done this weeks ago . . .
Here is the project for next Saturday, and you can't even see really how huge this pile of old random wood and logs is. We have to clear the area around the henhouse, as this back, third space is better for chickens, we decided. What is in that old drum? I don't want to know. My guess is the henhouse has to be at least 50 years old, but I can't be sure. We are basically going to nail another exterior to the outside of it.
So, life is bittersweet. But what is new?
Yesterday, after a wonderfully long, hard day (more on that below), I told David I was tired. He said, "Well, tomorrow you only have two things to do: get up with everybody and do everything." What a sweet guy.
Ben is loving his life, he is so free and running around all the time, it has helped his behavior. He is happier, and I see him a lot less, and I don't know if that is a coincidence or not.
Sophie is great, looked so grown-up in her brand-new "Easter" dress (ie., week-after-Easter-is-cheaper dress). I'll have to get a picture for you. Her hair and legs are just growing longer and longer. Ma-in-law tested her and we have officially determined to have her stay in the Utah age range and do 1st grade over again next year. We applied to have her in Ma-in-law's class, and so far are approved to get her in that school, but waiting to hear if she'll go in the class. The school is way on the other side of town and probably not a long-term place for us, so if she's not in grandma's class, I don't know that it would make sense.
Noah is also just thrilled with his new life. He and Lucy are just out there with the rest of them, playing with the neighbors in back (we share a backyard fence, and they run around together all day) or the neighbors on the other side of the pasture, where Ben plays quite a bit, and their 3 YO Colton comes over often to play with Noah. He says he asked his mom, but I'm guessing it doesn't really matter since they are just outside in the pasture right between our houses. It really is a dream, I actually can just say, "I'll call you in for dinner." I was going to sign everyone up for various sports and music lessons, but I'm waiting. I'm enjoying my empty schedule and not spending that money.
Lucy's main word is "Shu!" Shu!" Which is her demand after being dressed each morning, because she wants to go outside and knows she needs shoes to do it. I assume she'll start talking more eventually.
I start a new job tomorrow as an instructor at a local charter school: Legacy Preparatory Academy. I'll be working PT in the mornings, mainly with the elementary kids doing 1-on-1 testing for end-of-year. Then it looks hopeful that I'd have a job teaching Jr. High English there in the fall FT. It pays about half of what I'd ask for if I went back into dumb corporate life, which is lame, but we think it will be more family friendly hours-wise. If I have to work, it seems like a better long-term solution.
It was a great confidence booster to be offered the immediate position in my interview! The interview had between 2-3 interviewers and was 90 minutes and rather rigorous ("Please summarize for us the last book you read," and "How would you incorporate the Logic phase of the Classical Trivium when teaching Call of the Wild or Lord of the Flies to Jr. High students," Thank heaven I'm well-versed in the trivium--thanks, homeschooling!). I stood up after having the short-term offer and said, "Well, I've had worse interviews," to which one of the interviewers, the only man, responded exasperatedly, "So have we!" Maybe I shouldn't be flattered, good teachers are maybe just hard to come by.
The school has a reputation of being a little bit snooty. However, the school is based on the classical education home schooling philosophy I've always held as my standard of education for my kids (outlined in The Well-Trained Mind). So, that's exciting. I'll be working on my credential as I go, with a provisional license from the state until I'm done.
Yesterday was the best day. It was finally warm enough to work outside, and we did, all day. I worked mainly on the front yard, although we did end up planting lettuce, peas and spinach in the west garden just as the sun went down. When we finished, I stood up and walked around the yard and pasture in the almost-dark, just amazed at how it's such a glorious dream come true, and realizing that I couldn't remember a day where I was sad to see the sun set on it, because I so loved what I was doing. Beats out Prozac any day (although today proves it only has short-term efficacy.)
On a sad note, I learned today that the owners of our home are in the process of buying the house and land just north of us, which means they will have access to their land-locked space in the middle of the block, so they'll now be free to build house to house and develop all these lots to death once our lease is up in 2 years. I've been holding out the unrealistic idea that I'd be in a position to buy this place at that time, so I'll be crying myself to sleep over that tonight. I secretly hoped we'd never have to move again, and can't bear the thought of making the kids leave here.
Well, back to brighter things, I have some pictures for you. This is a gigantic, old grape vine that is crawling up one of our gigantic, old pines. I'm going to try to get it down and retrain it to something more accessible than a 50-ft tree.
Just last week or so, it snowed, and my kids (unlike all the other kids here, who are DONE with snow) enjoyed it thoroughly. Here's Noah and Sophie.
This was our yard before, covered with about 2 year's worth of maple leaves:
We started the long process of putting them in piles
David trimmed the hedge (thanks for the hedger, Mosses!)
Lucy and Sophie bagged leaves (well, about a half a bag between them)
From the front yard alone, there were 10 huge leaf bags. We put them in the "forest" on the right of our driveway.
Here is our glorious new front yard!
Leaf free path!
Still has this random, ivy-covered monster on the left. I'm waiting for some buds on it to bloom and try to impress me before I hack it down and replace it with something else.
We decided to use most of the existing henhouse structure, so the pictures won't be as dramatic. Here is before (covered in even more grapevines!).
And here is after, roof-free.
Inside view
That night, I started all my tomatoes, 72 plants. Although I should have done this weeks ago . . .
Here is the project for next Saturday, and you can't even see really how huge this pile of old random wood and logs is. We have to clear the area around the henhouse, as this back, third space is better for chickens, we decided. What is in that old drum? I don't want to know. My guess is the henhouse has to be at least 50 years old, but I can't be sure. We are basically going to nail another exterior to the outside of it.
So, life is bittersweet. But what is new?
And it must needs be that the devil should tempt the children of men, or they could not be agents unto themselves; for if they never should have bitter they could not know the sweet—
Doctrine and Covenants 29:39
Well, tomorrow my Prozac will be trimming the skirts of the huge pine trees in back, we're going to take the branches off about 4' up to clean them up a bit.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Lots of thoughts, but no language
I enjoyed conference in a very mixed way, vascillating wildly between being inspired, motivated, and despairing over critical weaknesses. I received a witness that President Monson was indeed the living prophet, which I didn't ask for nor expect, but that was truly wonderful.
So, I'm keeping my thoughts to myself right now. In their place, here's some fluff. My friend just sent me this and I sent it back to her. Feel free to email me your stats.
1. What time did you get up this morning? 8:00
2. Diamonds or pearls? DIAMONDS
3. Last movie you saw in the theater? Be Kind Rewind
23. When is your birthday? February 22
24. Are you a morning person or a night person? NIGHT
25. What is your shoe size? 8.5
26. Pets? None, but soon chickens, a cat and maybe some turkeys
27. What did you want to be when you were little?
an opera singer
28. What are you today? a lost soul
29. What is your favorite candy?
Trader Joes Chocolate covered mint cremes (like homemade Jr. Mints!)
30. Your favorite flower? Orange roses
31. What is a day on the calendar you are looking forward to? Mid May, when I can plant and my chickens come
32. What are you listening to right now? Lucy babbling
33. What was the last thing you ate? a jelly bean, totally off-plan
34. Do you wish on stars? No. But I do wish a lot.
35. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
Purple
36. What is your pet peeve? Passive aggressiveness.
37. Last person you spoke to on the phone? David
39. Favorite soft drink? Stewarts Orange Soda
40. Favorite restaurant? Cafe Santorini in Pasadena
41. Hair Color? Brown
42. Favorite day of the year? Christmas
43. What was your favorite toy as a child? Tape recorder, so I could tape my "beautiful" 4 year-old opera voice.
44. Summer or winter? Summer, but really fall.
45. Hugs or kisses? Yes please
46. Chocolate or vanilla? chocolate
47. Do you want your friends to e-mail you back? If they want to.
48. When was the last time you cried? Yesterday, because I'm part crazy.
49. What is under your bed? The floor.
50. Who is the friend you've had the longest? Janet (23 years!), although I guess Ned beats that out theoretically
51. What did you do last night? Took a long, hot bath and read "The Last Days" by Avrahim Gileadi, where I learned I'm an idolater. Dang.
52. Favorite smell? homemade bread and wassail
53. What are you afraid of? spiders
54. How many keys on your key ring? 2
55. How many years at your current job? 8.5 (mommying)
56. Favorite day of the week? Sunday
57. How many states have you lived in? 2
58. Do you make friends easily? Casual friends, yes, serious friends, no.
59. How many folks will you send this to? My computer just died (AGAIN!!) so I guess I'll put in on my blog as post cop out.
Thanks to David for letting me use his computer even though he hates to share.
So, I'm keeping my thoughts to myself right now. In their place, here's some fluff. My friend just sent me this and I sent it back to her. Feel free to email me your stats.
1. What time did you get up this morning? 8:00
2. Diamonds or pearls? DIAMONDS
3. Last movie you saw in the theater? Be Kind Rewind
4. What is your favorite TV show? Lost, Daily Show, The Office
5. What do you usually have for breakfast? Oatmeal or green smoothie
6. What is your middle name? Wise
7. What food do you dislike? Cilantro
8. What is your favorite CD at the moment? Renee Fleming Sacred Songs or Mo'Tab Consider the Lilies
9. What kind of car do you drive? Toyota Sienna.
10. Favorite sandwich? Big fat turkey avocado
11. What characteristics do you despise? Disingenuity
12. Favorite item of clothing? My sweater, because I moved to UT from CA
13. If you could go anywhere in the world for a vacation, where would you go?
Europe or China
14. What color is your bathroom? Red, gold and black
15. Favorite brand of clothing? Ann Taylor, but don't own any, more like Old Navy
16. Where would you retire? UK
17. Most memorable birthday? 26 - went to Disneyland in the rain with friends, it was empty and we walked onto everything
18. Sport to watch? Is Guitar Hero a sport?
19. Furthest place you are sending this to? Haven't decided yet
20. Who do you expect will send this back to you? Can't say
21 Person u expect will send it back first? Ditto
22. Favorite saying? A three-way tie:
When I'm in my Zen mood: It is what it is.
My unsympathetic mood: Boo Hoo, you're fine.
My general favorite bumpersticker-style saying:
Heck is where people go who don't believe in Gosh.
23. When is your birthday? February 22
24. Are you a morning person or a night person? NIGHT
25. What is your shoe size? 8.5
26. Pets? None, but soon chickens, a cat and maybe some turkeys
27. What did you want to be when you were little?
an opera singer
28. What are you today? a lost soul
29. What is your favorite candy?
Trader Joes Chocolate covered mint cremes (like homemade Jr. Mints!)
30. Your favorite flower? Orange roses
31. What is a day on the calendar you are looking forward to? Mid May, when I can plant and my chickens come
32. What are you listening to right now? Lucy babbling
33. What was the last thing you ate? a jelly bean, totally off-plan
34. Do you wish on stars? No. But I do wish a lot.
35. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
Purple
36. What is your pet peeve? Passive aggressiveness.
37. Last person you spoke to on the phone? David
39. Favorite soft drink? Stewarts Orange Soda
40. Favorite restaurant? Cafe Santorini in Pasadena
41. Hair Color? Brown
42. Favorite day of the year? Christmas
43. What was your favorite toy as a child? Tape recorder, so I could tape my "beautiful" 4 year-old opera voice.
44. Summer or winter? Summer, but really fall.
45. Hugs or kisses? Yes please
46. Chocolate or vanilla? chocolate
47. Do you want your friends to e-mail you back? If they want to.
48. When was the last time you cried? Yesterday, because I'm part crazy.
49. What is under your bed? The floor.
50. Who is the friend you've had the longest? Janet (23 years!), although I guess Ned beats that out theoretically
51. What did you do last night? Took a long, hot bath and read "The Last Days" by Avrahim Gileadi, where I learned I'm an idolater. Dang.
52. Favorite smell? homemade bread and wassail
53. What are you afraid of? spiders
54. How many keys on your key ring? 2
55. How many years at your current job? 8.5 (mommying)
56. Favorite day of the week? Sunday
57. How many states have you lived in? 2
58. Do you make friends easily? Casual friends, yes, serious friends, no.
59. How many folks will you send this to? My computer just died (AGAIN!!) so I guess I'll put in on my blog as post cop out.
Thanks to David for letting me use his computer even though he hates to share.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Retraction II
Well, that was a fun experiment, writing every day. But the fact is, my personal journal is neglected and my more personal and serious thoughts need writing. Also, my life that is sharable right now is boring. It's too cold to plant or tear down the hen house, although I may prune the fruit trees. There's nothing fun to say. My brain can't even keep up with the mamamelodrama posts 2x a week these days.
You can count on my Sunday posts, and if something happens, especially by way of our farm efforts, I will definitely post.
Be glad I didn't post yesterday or you would all have feared for my sanity and self-preservation. I hate Mondays, and they cosmically hate me back.
Love to all.
You can count on my Sunday posts, and if something happens, especially by way of our farm efforts, I will definitely post.
Be glad I didn't post yesterday or you would all have feared for my sanity and self-preservation. I hate Mondays, and they cosmically hate me back.
Love to all.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Catching up on pictures
First, I don't think I'll be blogging on Saturday. Second, I am just so happy here, things are going great. Third, no coop pics, because it was too cold to go outside on Saturday so we bagged yardwork. Stay tuned for those. Here are some pics I'd like to share with you.
Sophie, getting a prize for being helpful and friendly at her school, kindly lined up by her otherwise grumpy teacher right before we moved:
Sophie, getting a prize for being helpful and friendly at her school, kindly lined up by her otherwise grumpy teacher right before we moved:
Sisters in the tub!
Our last family night in Pasadena we shared with friends...here are the Hansens--miss you!!
Sophie and Addy--so cute!
The fabulous Halls
The wonderful Higginbothams
The much-missed Chamberlains
A serene Laura and her fevered daughter.
The sweetest pic of Sis. Wright ever, with cute Addy.
My sweet Doris!
Sophie and Autumn
Then we moved away. If you were at the FHE and you didn't see a picture of yourself, it is because I am a poor photographer and got you with your mouth full and didn't want you mad (Lyons, DuToits, Hunters, many others), or I was in the picture and it was just too bad to be allowed.
So, when we came here, we had an owl who lived in a small pine tree in our driveway. I named him Mr. Peepers. He was annoyed that people had moved in after having the place to himself for almost 2 years, so he's gone now. But first he left some serious owl art on David's car.
The weekend after we moved in was Easter, and we had a hunt. Here is Sophie and our friend Brodie Mitchell frolicking about in the mini-orchard. Our house is through the trees on the right.
Here is Grandma helping Lucy find some eggs.
Here's the best picture I could get of Ben, right after he got the last clue and found his basket. Believe me, he was happier than he looks, but he won't pose for pictures without serious threats, which I didn't feel I should do while we celebrated the Easter Egg thing. He could pass for 16 with that face, not eight. Will he be "over" the teenage attitude by the time we get to the teenage years, or will it be just magnified exponentially?
Noah, happy and glutting himself on candy.
Sophie, Morgan and Addy, feeding our neighbors. Morgan especially loved the horses.
So, I'm all caught up on pics. I'll try to upload them weekly now. Life is good!!
Friday, March 28, 2008
Grocery shopping in Utah
That's all I did. All day. Costco, Whole Foods then did the leftovers at Smiths. I spent enough to cover three weeks of food, so it had better last three weeks. I miss Trader Joe, but I'm determined to get over it. I was in a bad habit of going there several times a week. This once-a-month major shopping, with a few quick visits for milk and eggs, will be a nice change.
Sorry my blog is boring. Trying to keep a journal and whatnot, but not a lot of excitement yet. Tomorrow, you'll have pictures of our before and after chicken coop demolition, though!
xoxoxo
Sorry my blog is boring. Trying to keep a journal and whatnot, but not a lot of excitement yet. Tomorrow, you'll have pictures of our before and after chicken coop demolition, though!
xoxoxo
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Only a virus
My and Lucy's cultures showed negative today--yay! It's handy to have someone able to test what's going on so easily. I'm beating the virus with tons of garlic, Vit C, and water.
I felt better enough today to go to the Discovery Center children's museum with Michele--it is by far the best children's museum I've been to, and I've been to many!
I need to print a formal retraction to appease my pa-in-law: Utah is not lame. Utah germs are lame, and the lame things about Utah are lame. I love everything about Utah that is not a germ and is not lame.
;)
I felt better enough today to go to the Discovery Center children's museum with Michele--it is by far the best children's museum I've been to, and I've been to many!
I need to print a formal retraction to appease my pa-in-law: Utah is not lame. Utah germs are lame, and the lame things about Utah are lame. I love everything about Utah that is not a germ and is not lame.
;)
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
How does one title each day of one's life? It's oppressive!
Feeling a bit better, but kind of not. Mom worked in microbiology today (she works in the lab at the hospital) and cultured herself, says we may have streptococcus pneumococcal (not strep throat, pneumonia). She came by tonight to culture me and will tell me tomorrow. I feel less coughing, but very tired, and like someone is standing on my chest. Lame germy Utah!
Michele came to visit this morning, which was nice. Friends like her who know just about how "well" I take care of my daily life look around this place and all the outside work to be done with a kind of "Good luck with that" look. All I can say is I will have help--this is becoming the extended family farm, it seems.
The kids just played all day, half in the neighbor's yard on their tramp and swingset, half in our yard. They all fell asleep hard. I think Ben is already losing weight. Hope I'll follow suit.
Michele came to visit this morning, which was nice. Friends like her who know just about how "well" I take care of my daily life look around this place and all the outside work to be done with a kind of "Good luck with that" look. All I can say is I will have help--this is becoming the extended family farm, it seems.
The kids just played all day, half in the neighbor's yard on their tramp and swingset, half in our yard. They all fell asleep hard. I think Ben is already losing weight. Hope I'll follow suit.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Utah is Germy!
I ALWAYS get sick when I come to Utah! I was here one day when I started with a sore throat. Granted, I'd gotten no sleep on the first days due to the drive and the move, but I started pounding back garlic pills and vitamin C like crazy, since I'm not like normal people and can't take echinacea 'cause it gives me heart attacks and stuff.
So, I was in bed all day. Acknowledgements go to Kim for taking my kids this morning, TV for taking my kids in the early afternoon, and Elaine for taking my kids all the way through dinner, and to my husband for taking care of everything else. No thanks to the lame Utah germs that made me cough up my lungs (and sometimes my lunch) until DH went and got the raw honey (yep, works same as cough syrup, less yucky, druggy and red).
On my list of things to do today was unpacking toys and books and reading about how to prune my fruit trees. Since I could do the latter while lying horizontally, I was able to check that one off. There's my five-minute journal entry. In four minutes.
So, I was in bed all day. Acknowledgements go to Kim for taking my kids this morning, TV for taking my kids in the early afternoon, and Elaine for taking my kids all the way through dinner, and to my husband for taking care of everything else. No thanks to the lame Utah germs that made me cough up my lungs (and sometimes my lunch) until DH went and got the raw honey (yep, works same as cough syrup, less yucky, druggy and red).
On my list of things to do today was unpacking toys and books and reading about how to prune my fruit trees. Since I could do the latter while lying horizontally, I was able to check that one off. There's my five-minute journal entry. In four minutes.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Monday Monday
I finished the whole upstairs unpacking today--it looks great! Nevermind the downstairs, that's for the next four days. It feels so nice up there--so peaceful. We had our FHE on "peace" tonight, inspired by a quote from our Sacrament meeting speaker yesterday, "Peace cannot be imposed, but is a direct result of righteousness." Dang, we were trying hard to impose peace by martial law.
And, best of all, thanks to our nightly baby torture routine for two nights, night three (last night) was the FIRST night EVER that Lucy slept through the night. Yes, she is 21 months old. We're trying one more night to be sure, then she moves in with her sister. My sanity will be saved after all. She slept until 10:30 (granted, we didn't put her down until 10, since we're all off due to daylight savings and moving a time zone in just a few weeks). She was SO happy today--more upbeat than I've ever seen her! I think getting a full night of uninterupted sleep, even though it was against her will initially, will be helpful to her.
I didn't even go outside today, just trying to get the house in order. But I did inventory my seeds and learned that I have a TON of what I need (thanks to Ted Gooding, always giving out free seeds). I have lots of cool-crop seeds ready to go in as soon as I get the ground tilled, which hopefully will be next week.
My friend Elaine is doing chickens with us. She has ordered the chicks and will get them to 4 weeks before moving them to our pasture--around May 15th. The workload will really be gearing up about then.
And, best of all, thanks to our nightly baby torture routine for two nights, night three (last night) was the FIRST night EVER that Lucy slept through the night. Yes, she is 21 months old. We're trying one more night to be sure, then she moves in with her sister. My sanity will be saved after all. She slept until 10:30 (granted, we didn't put her down until 10, since we're all off due to daylight savings and moving a time zone in just a few weeks). She was SO happy today--more upbeat than I've ever seen her! I think getting a full night of uninterupted sleep, even though it was against her will initially, will be helpful to her.
I didn't even go outside today, just trying to get the house in order. But I did inventory my seeds and learned that I have a TON of what I need (thanks to Ted Gooding, always giving out free seeds). I have lots of cool-crop seeds ready to go in as soon as I get the ground tilled, which hopefully will be next week.
My friend Elaine is doing chickens with us. She has ordered the chicks and will get them to 4 weeks before moving them to our pasture--around May 15th. The workload will really be gearing up about then.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
He is risen!
Happy Easter! (And happy birthday to my pa-in-law!)
Christ is indeed risen, and everything is possible because of it. With Him there is hope, peace and joy, both in this life and hereafter, which would never be possible without Him.
We had a nice Easter brunch with my mom (trying to make most of darned 1pm church).
Church was fine. I liked seeing my cousin Kim and sitting by her, she is my sister-cousin, as we both have no sisters and no other girl cousins on this side of the family, and have a very sisterly relationship--she is six years my senior. People in the ward say I look like a dark-haired Kim. I'm looking forward to having her close.
Based on three hours with this ward, I can tell you very little. Although, many things are obvious regardless. We moved from an urban area to a semi-rural area, we moved from a diverse area to a very homogenous area, we moved from an area rife with complexity and often intensity to one that is pretty straightforward and--let's just say it--a little sleepy. And we moved from a ward that is chock full of friends and loved ones to one where we know 7 people, to whom we are related and five of those are minors.
So you can pretty much guess how there's some adjustments to be made here. But we ask not what our ward can do for us, but what we can do for our ward. Church is not entertainment, or even a social club, but a place to learn to serve and see each other as brothers and sisters, to make life easier for others. A person can do that anywhere.
I knew (or maybe planned) that this would be the day I would come a little closer to shedding the denial of leaving my CA friends behind. This was the first day I allowed myself a 15-second hidden sob, but had to recover quickly to go to a fun family party that eased the sad out a bit.
And that's my five minutes for the day. And, since my Utah friends and family probably don't feel the need to read this anymore and I'm probably left in private with my CA friends--hey, I love you all--really, really.
Christ is indeed risen, and everything is possible because of it. With Him there is hope, peace and joy, both in this life and hereafter, which would never be possible without Him.
We had a nice Easter brunch with my mom (trying to make most of darned 1pm church).
Church was fine. I liked seeing my cousin Kim and sitting by her, she is my sister-cousin, as we both have no sisters and no other girl cousins on this side of the family, and have a very sisterly relationship--she is six years my senior. People in the ward say I look like a dark-haired Kim. I'm looking forward to having her close.
Based on three hours with this ward, I can tell you very little. Although, many things are obvious regardless. We moved from an urban area to a semi-rural area, we moved from a diverse area to a very homogenous area, we moved from an area rife with complexity and often intensity to one that is pretty straightforward and--let's just say it--a little sleepy. And we moved from a ward that is chock full of friends and loved ones to one where we know 7 people, to whom we are related and five of those are minors.
So you can pretty much guess how there's some adjustments to be made here. But we ask not what our ward can do for us, but what we can do for our ward. Church is not entertainment, or even a social club, but a place to learn to serve and see each other as brothers and sisters, to make life easier for others. A person can do that anywhere.
I knew (or maybe planned) that this would be the day I would come a little closer to shedding the denial of leaving my CA friends behind. This was the first day I allowed myself a 15-second hidden sob, but had to recover quickly to go to a fun family party that eased the sad out a bit.
And that's my five minutes for the day. And, since my Utah friends and family probably don't feel the need to read this anymore and I'm probably left in private with my CA friends--hey, I love you all--really, really.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Re-emergence
When we go rafting every two years, some or all of us eventually fall out and go under in a big rapid, and, for the rest of us in the boat, the seconds before we see that head pop up always feel like minutes.
So, to my loved ones wondering if I've gone under for good, here is my head popping up--pop!
Although the last few hours of packing on Tuesday PM bled into Wednesday AM, the Lord sent Angels (Shauna, Doris, Megan, and Jen, not to mention my angel mother) to help wrap things up so we could get out by 1 p.m. The drive was long but didn't feel so bad, I had the two little ones in the van, mom had the older ones and the DVD player in David's car. David and the moving van stopped in Las Vegas to stay with his brother (since the truck is so slow) and my mom and I went on to David's parents in Bountiful, arriving at 2:30 a.m. Thursday morning.
I was pretty fuzzy Thursday, felt mildly confused and disoriented ("What state am I in? Why?") and not a little bit cranky. My prayer that morning went like this: "Lord, this is a big move, it is overwhelming, stressful, and a huge change, my kids are out of sorts for the same reason, and I've had 4 hours sleep and feel crazy, wondering if this was a good idea in the first place. So, I'm making this day your problem, please take care of it. Thanks in advance, Valerie."
And He did. I checked in with the owner of the house we are renting, and we went around the property and talked about things. I asked if it was ok if I fenced off the old garden for chickens, since we are plowing the pasture for our new garden. She had no problem with that, but then decided to give us (free) some more land they own behind our lot that is actually designed for that purpose (although we need to demolish the old hen house), plus two other animal pens (future use TBD)--that gives us a full acre! She also gave us the use of a landlocked apple tree (also their property, in the center of the block). Every new thing I noticed about our place made it just more amazing and more of a miracle. For instance, how did I not notice the oversized tub? (Didn't look behind the door, silly.)
We were told the moving truck would get 3-6 miles to the gallon (that's 700 miles with diesel at $4.50/gal in CA), and we were jumping for joy when we learned he was getting 10 MPG. David arrived at 5 p.m., exactly on schedule. Aunts and uncles, a great aunt and uncle, grandmas and a grandpa, and cousins, and cousins once-removed, unknown but friendly new ward members, all emerged to get the truck unloaded in under an hour, sorting each box into its proper room. I then walked away and slept peacefully at David's parents.
I came back on Friday to start unpacking and just walked around, almost numb with joy. Space, grass, normalcy. Spring, in its true, everything-dead-comes-alive form, I haven't experienced in over a decade. Crocuses and violets were pushing through in the front "yard." I say "yard" because this house hasn't been lived in for almost two years, and ivy and unraked leaves have taken over. There are random shoots and sticks everywhere, but we can't start cleaning up or pulling anything out because they are just as likely to be flowers as anything else. So, we're just watching and waiting to see what comes up.
My kids are in heaven. On Friday, Ben said, "Mom, if you say today is a 'home day' again, I'll know that you really mean it's a 'park day' because we have a park in our back yard." Ben kept asking me to come help him swing high on the board-on-a-rope tree swing, and I told him to find a ladder and work it out, I had work to do. He managed to find a 20' ladder (!), set it up, and starting swinging from 10' up. He's pretty much been doing that the past three days, along with "fixing up" the play house. He's outside most of the time, Sophie a lot, although not quite a much, and when she's out, she's over petting the neighbor's foals.
Today we had an Easter Egg hunt, thrown together at the last minute. We ended up with both grandparents, two aunts, a niece and our friends the Mitchells enjoying the festivities. I feel like I'm in a dreamworld, like I'm playing house.
I'll be honest, when it comes to our temporal arrangements, it has been an awful three years, and very little good happened to us (temporally, mind you) during that time. Now I get something that I've always wanted and prayed for, but written off as impossible, and I am not sure how to take it graciously. I just keep saying "Really!?" and "Are you kidding me!?" and then repenting, "I mean-- thank you!" But at the same time I see, that if He had said yes to any of the temporal improvements I had asked for in the past several years, this would never have happened.
It feels great to be close to family and get to know them better than the previous 1-2x a year made possible. They have been so there for us, and so excited about our being here, it has really taken me off guard.
I'm setting a goal to do 5 minutes a day here in the family blog, and I'm taking MamaMelodrama down to two articles a week (for quality purposes). That way my far-away friends can be with me through all the slapstick city-folk-turned-bumpkin antics that will surely ensue.
Goodbye, urbanity!
So, to my loved ones wondering if I've gone under for good, here is my head popping up--pop!
Although the last few hours of packing on Tuesday PM bled into Wednesday AM, the Lord sent Angels (Shauna, Doris, Megan, and Jen, not to mention my angel mother) to help wrap things up so we could get out by 1 p.m. The drive was long but didn't feel so bad, I had the two little ones in the van, mom had the older ones and the DVD player in David's car. David and the moving van stopped in Las Vegas to stay with his brother (since the truck is so slow) and my mom and I went on to David's parents in Bountiful, arriving at 2:30 a.m. Thursday morning.
I was pretty fuzzy Thursday, felt mildly confused and disoriented ("What state am I in? Why?") and not a little bit cranky. My prayer that morning went like this: "Lord, this is a big move, it is overwhelming, stressful, and a huge change, my kids are out of sorts for the same reason, and I've had 4 hours sleep and feel crazy, wondering if this was a good idea in the first place. So, I'm making this day your problem, please take care of it. Thanks in advance, Valerie."
And He did. I checked in with the owner of the house we are renting, and we went around the property and talked about things. I asked if it was ok if I fenced off the old garden for chickens, since we are plowing the pasture for our new garden. She had no problem with that, but then decided to give us (free) some more land they own behind our lot that is actually designed for that purpose (although we need to demolish the old hen house), plus two other animal pens (future use TBD)--that gives us a full acre! She also gave us the use of a landlocked apple tree (also their property, in the center of the block). Every new thing I noticed about our place made it just more amazing and more of a miracle. For instance, how did I not notice the oversized tub? (Didn't look behind the door, silly.)
We were told the moving truck would get 3-6 miles to the gallon (that's 700 miles with diesel at $4.50/gal in CA), and we were jumping for joy when we learned he was getting 10 MPG. David arrived at 5 p.m., exactly on schedule. Aunts and uncles, a great aunt and uncle, grandmas and a grandpa, and cousins, and cousins once-removed, unknown but friendly new ward members, all emerged to get the truck unloaded in under an hour, sorting each box into its proper room. I then walked away and slept peacefully at David's parents.
I came back on Friday to start unpacking and just walked around, almost numb with joy. Space, grass, normalcy. Spring, in its true, everything-dead-comes-alive form, I haven't experienced in over a decade. Crocuses and violets were pushing through in the front "yard." I say "yard" because this house hasn't been lived in for almost two years, and ivy and unraked leaves have taken over. There are random shoots and sticks everywhere, but we can't start cleaning up or pulling anything out because they are just as likely to be flowers as anything else. So, we're just watching and waiting to see what comes up.
My kids are in heaven. On Friday, Ben said, "Mom, if you say today is a 'home day' again, I'll know that you really mean it's a 'park day' because we have a park in our back yard." Ben kept asking me to come help him swing high on the board-on-a-rope tree swing, and I told him to find a ladder and work it out, I had work to do. He managed to find a 20' ladder (!), set it up, and starting swinging from 10' up. He's pretty much been doing that the past three days, along with "fixing up" the play house. He's outside most of the time, Sophie a lot, although not quite a much, and when she's out, she's over petting the neighbor's foals.
Today we had an Easter Egg hunt, thrown together at the last minute. We ended up with both grandparents, two aunts, a niece and our friends the Mitchells enjoying the festivities. I feel like I'm in a dreamworld, like I'm playing house.
I'll be honest, when it comes to our temporal arrangements, it has been an awful three years, and very little good happened to us (temporally, mind you) during that time. Now I get something that I've always wanted and prayed for, but written off as impossible, and I am not sure how to take it graciously. I just keep saying "Really!?" and "Are you kidding me!?" and then repenting, "I mean-- thank you!" But at the same time I see, that if He had said yes to any of the temporal improvements I had asked for in the past several years, this would never have happened.
It feels great to be close to family and get to know them better than the previous 1-2x a year made possible. They have been so there for us, and so excited about our being here, it has really taken me off guard.
I'm setting a goal to do 5 minutes a day here in the family blog, and I'm taking MamaMelodrama down to two articles a week (for quality purposes). That way my far-away friends can be with me through all the slapstick city-folk-turned-bumpkin antics that will surely ensue.
Goodbye, urbanity!
Monday, March 17, 2008
Stop Gap Post
Hi everyone! The move is on. We'll be loading the truck Tuesday, driving away Wednesday, and moving in Thursday/Friday (Saturday, Sunday, etc. etc.)
The family is fine, the move is going fine, we are all fine.
[Translation: Aaaaaaaaaaaaa! Save me!]
The family is fine, the move is going fine, we are all fine.
[Translation: Aaaaaaaaaaaaa! Save me!]
Sunday, March 9, 2008
More mundane updates
The one event of the week that I had to announce outside of my lengthy treatise on my own self below, was that Lucy is learning to sleep better. I had a horrible week of no sleep because she's been sick with a cough and up many times at night. She nursed and then fussed and didn't want to nurse but didn't want to go be rocked or held so I finally just had to put her in her bed, as she was getting all mad and scratching and hitting. She was mad for a while, but I really could see nothing I could do and I was out of my mind with exhaustion.
She was getting in the habit of fussing after nursing, nothing worked to make her feel better. I just decided when I needed her to sleep I'd put her in bed. Now, it's the end of the week, although I've had to get up a lot to give her medicine and help her with a bad cough, she is going to sleep both at night and at naps with very little or no fuss--I just put her in bed. The benefit of waiting 21 months I guess is they figure out faster that it's easier just to go to sleep.
She actually went over to her bed tonight, looking longingly at it, before we realized she was tired and wanted to be put down.
So, although I have no rest to show for this wonderful blessing, I am very excited of the prospects once she is well. The only problem is she does that infant thing of waking up at 5-6 a.m. and fussing, and would probably go back to sleep in five minutes if left alone, but at that time of day, everyone would wake up if I let her fuss--none of the heavy sleeping I could count on at 3 a.m. Can't wait until we have more space in the new place!
David has been a saint, letting me sleep until 9:30 on Saturday, and getting a great nap today. He is the crabbiest, most wonderful man in the world.
Lastly, I've really been excited about the new place because I want to get serious with the home food production thing vis a vis Animal Vegetable Miracle. I don't think this is just my silly hippie self, but that I'm being led to make this change. Then I came across this article in the NY Times about the increasing price of food (and how they expect it to continue to rise quickly due to a falling dollar, demand, crop failure, raising food for gas--as in ethanol, and oil prices). The article gives you the feeling we really will start to see a time where we have to eat less for economic reasons, not just because we want to look skinny.
It's becoming more obvious that those who follow the prophet's guidance to pay of their mortgage, keep out of debt, have a savings and plant a garden will stave off the future problems as our economy pays the price of sustained unsustainable practices. The problem is our economy relies heavily on consumer spending and borrowing, and more and more consumers are out of cash and credit. Without a HUGE cash bailout to families (no $1200 will cut it), their consumers will have their hands tied. I think the corporations forget that the employees they are laying off and their consumers are the same people.
I read some really interesting scriptures about this today, but I'll save those rants for my scripture blog, which I've been woefully neglecting.
She was getting in the habit of fussing after nursing, nothing worked to make her feel better. I just decided when I needed her to sleep I'd put her in bed. Now, it's the end of the week, although I've had to get up a lot to give her medicine and help her with a bad cough, she is going to sleep both at night and at naps with very little or no fuss--I just put her in bed. The benefit of waiting 21 months I guess is they figure out faster that it's easier just to go to sleep.
She actually went over to her bed tonight, looking longingly at it, before we realized she was tired and wanted to be put down.
So, although I have no rest to show for this wonderful blessing, I am very excited of the prospects once she is well. The only problem is she does that infant thing of waking up at 5-6 a.m. and fussing, and would probably go back to sleep in five minutes if left alone, but at that time of day, everyone would wake up if I let her fuss--none of the heavy sleeping I could count on at 3 a.m. Can't wait until we have more space in the new place!
David has been a saint, letting me sleep until 9:30 on Saturday, and getting a great nap today. He is the crabbiest, most wonderful man in the world.
Lastly, I've really been excited about the new place because I want to get serious with the home food production thing vis a vis Animal Vegetable Miracle. I don't think this is just my silly hippie self, but that I'm being led to make this change. Then I came across this article in the NY Times about the increasing price of food (and how they expect it to continue to rise quickly due to a falling dollar, demand, crop failure, raising food for gas--as in ethanol, and oil prices). The article gives you the feeling we really will start to see a time where we have to eat less for economic reasons, not just because we want to look skinny.
It's becoming more obvious that those who follow the prophet's guidance to pay of their mortgage, keep out of debt, have a savings and plant a garden will stave off the future problems as our economy pays the price of sustained unsustainable practices. The problem is our economy relies heavily on consumer spending and borrowing, and more and more consumers are out of cash and credit. Without a HUGE cash bailout to families (no $1200 will cut it), their consumers will have their hands tied. I think the corporations forget that the employees they are laying off and their consumers are the same people.
I read some really interesting scriptures about this today, but I'll save those rants for my scripture blog, which I've been woefully neglecting.
Nostalgia: My California Eulogy (or, making up for journaling sporadically for 12 years)
[This is exactly what it sounds like, is super long, and I won't be offended if you skip it.]
I first came to Los Angeles alone. I was 24, it was 1996. I had to leave David home to pack and get us ready to move because I'd been offered a great-paying job (a whopping $36K!) with a very impatient boss who insisted I start immediately. I stayed with David's cousin in La Crescenta and immediately began the local ritual of the LA commute through the San Fernando Valley, over Coldwater Canyon into to Beverly Hills. I was an office manager for the independent Laboratory run by Cedars Sinai Hospital, where my first son would be born three years later.
I was so homesick and felt I would never adjust. But it only took me the week to be comfortable navigating the traffic and knowing my way around. I visited the temple that first week by myself one night after work, and as I walked up the steps, never having been there before, I felt more homesick than ever. But as I walked in the doors, an overwhelming peace came over me and I felt a voice say, "This is your home, come back often." Anytime I felt homesick after that, I went "home" to the temple.
We'd already come down for a hasty weekend to pick an apartment in Hollywood. When we finally moved in, realized quickly that we'd been indeed hasty and far too rent-minded (only $725--we'd paid a steep $525 for our swank Capitol Hill apartment). Although it was a relatively nice building, we got a swift introduction to Hollyweird via our stoner neighbors and the gay couple next door with their super-loud (and somewhat hilarious) slap fights. I remember a night waking up to crashing sounds--some crazy person stole a car and drove it at breakneck speeds up our very narrow street lined on both sides with tightly-packed cars. The driver jumped out of the car, ran away, not to be seen again. Ah, Hollywood.
But the Hollywood ward, just as quirky and sometimes eyebrow-raising as the rest of the town, was where I got my testimony of buckling down and doing the work of the Kingdom. It was the kind of place where, as the Primary 1st Counselor, I may be the only adult there to show up, and might find myself conducting, leading music (sometimes while playing), doing sharing time, then teaching a combined class. I might have to keep the Primary President from cussing in front of the kids, and I probably would have to feed the kids granola bars because no breakfast was had at home. I'd leave feeling like I'd given a lot of blood.
It was the first time where it was very clear that if I didn't show up, an important ward auxillary just wouldn't happen. I was accustomed to riding along in the handcart of the church while all the old people pulled us along. Hollywood was where I learned to get out and push.
So, after our 9-month lease ended, we were on to Westwood. This time we we sacrificed space (only 500 feet), but paid the same and got location, location, location, where we could walk to wonderful movie theaters and restaurants, and boy, did we take advantage of all of them. I always say if I could take back the money and the calories from this time I would be rich and thin.
In the short period at Hollywood, we'd been able to walk to the Chinese theater, albeit somewhat timidly at night, but the Westside perks won out.
Although I knew the Hollywood ward needed us, we were led to start going to the UCLA Student Ward over in Westwood, and I think this is where David began to make his spiritual strides. Like our wonderful ward here in Pasadena, it was a ward heavy on the academic crowd, scientists and PhDs and post-docs, and it was an intellectually and spiritually stimulating place.
David was getting his undergrad at USC, now in Religion and Judaic Studies (although we'd come down to study film, he wasn't enjoying the program), and as soon as we came down I auditioned for and began studying opera with with Shigemi Matsumoto's studio in Northridge, paying what was essentially another tithing for the privilege. But this was the reason for my being open to coming to LA.
Meanwhile the lab where I worked was having stability issues and my boss announced he was leaving and suggested I should leave to avoid being laid off, so I took a job with our telephone system provider at the same salary. I was laid off after only 4 months, when the very small company realized they were paying me too much and didn't have anything for me to do.
I was nervous but relieved to leave that dysfuntional pit in Van Nuys, and this firing opened the way for me to interview with the Sprint PCS LA Area Sales and Marketing office, which had only 11 people when I was hired on 5/12/1997, when they had no network, but a bunch of plans, excitement, momentum and tons of money to throw around. Another proud, impatient and demanding boss here, although at least with some cult of personality, and I was hired as a generic project person--he liked me, he just didn't know what he was going to use me for.
He soon persuaded me (against all my protests that I was "past" that stage of my career) to be his Exec. Assistant. He persuaded me with money, which does indeed talk. I should have caught on quick that I would have a lot of fodder for a big, lucrative law suit in that conversation, where my religion, our faith's disinclination toward premarital sex, and later even my bra size managed to come up without any encouragement from me. He called me the "Emperor's Assistant" or his "work wife," a relationship which was never anything but platonic, although most of the office assumed otherwise. Why-oh-why am a nice girl who laughs red-faced instead of calling a lawyer?
The launch of SPCS was a crazy-intense, super-educational, career-boosting and income-generating ride, and left me well-versed in the corporate world, but clear on the ridiculous illusions of its meaningfulness that one must hold when working in it. It was here I met my dear, dear friend Doris, who has become essential to my existence.
Very shortly after taking the job at SPCS we realized that regardless of the fun of living in the "Village," the 500-sq foot thing just wasn't working for the two of us and our cat, Toe Jam. We moved into one of the fancy haunted hospital towers at Park La Brea, coming to terms with the idea that for long-term living we were going to have to deal with the $1150 rent. Our sweet almost-child Toe Jam committed suicide out our 8-story window, a very traumatic experience. We were soon joined by cats Ingrid and Bogey.
During the first two years here, I continued the annoying, expensive and roller-coasteresque ride of infertility treatments that I'd begun years before in Utah, and regular surgeries and hormone treatments were an integral part of life--thank heavens for good benefits! We'd given up many times, but after the most invasive laparotomy (that big, smiley-face belly cut) and ovarian reconstruction, we really felt "done" and started looking into adoption. That surgery was in May of 1998, and we turned down the next round of hormone treatment follow-ups, much to our specialist's disappointment.
Although the surprise career jump at SPCS really made the opera ambition more difficult, since I had much less time for practice, in the fall of 1998 I got one of the lead roles in the Santa Monica Community Opera, my second role with them, coincidentally playing a beatific nun in both: Dialogues of the Carmelites and Suor Angelica. At 26 I was playing in a shortened version (20 minutes) of a heavy-hitting Lyric Soprano role Verdi designed for 40 year olds where I had to cry, scream, sing a high-C and then commit suicide on stage. I'd say I did the best I could with what I had at the time.
But the story was significant personally: having been sent to the nunnery by my wealthy family for having an illegitimate son, my evil aunt comes to have me sign away my portion of the estate for my sister who is marrying. As I desperately and repeatedly ask about my son, she casually mentions the boy got sick and died, and coldly leaves. I am driven suicidal in an attempt to be with my son, take some poison, then suddenly realize suicide is a mortal sin and I'll never be reunited with him in heaven, but then I see a vision of Mother Mary and my son and am redeemed. As I sang and sobbed, lamenting my son and how much I wanted to hold him, I couldn't know that I'd he'd actually been conceived earlier that week.
Due to this, it was my first and last operatic lead. David started law school just a week after Ben was born. After ten weeks, I negotiated a part-time from home deal for a while until other employees' whining about my cushy life (probably due to once being being the big guys "work wife) was unfair. (Let them kiss up to a demanding guy for three years if they want perks!) So, they offered a promotion from my current role as Marketing Analyst and I went back to work full time, now as a Business Operations Manager. I just couldn't do it, I missed Ben too much, and although I liked his day care, he just seemed to have a lost look whenever I went to pick him up.
My last day at SPCS was three years to the day of my first (all us start-up type folks were getting bored with the monotony of daily operations and leaving anyway). I started doing contract graphic design for their ad pieces, and the money crunch, which we never really have escaped for too long, began. I tried odds and ends to bring in money, including my first jabs at entrepreneur efforts and a night job for a law firm downtown. We couldn't afford to continue the voice lessons, but Ben came first.
We bought a condo in Pasadena when Ben was 1, and Sophie was born about a year later--only one surgery required! Then we started the business, and I expanded it quickly although I was undercapitalized. Next I childishly insisted that we sell our condo so I could rent a house with a yard, which we did, making what we thought was a good profit, although the place reached triple that price in the coming years. At the same time, we agreed David would turn down a good job with a good firm because our business was doing well. Those three decisions, all made within a few months of each other, set the financial climate of what looks to be the rest of our lives to "Stormy Weather."
But, I didn't know that then, and I loved the two years we had in that little white house. That was where we had (and lost) Eden, where I had my only miscarriage, where Noah was born (in a birth tub in the bedroom), where we lived when my dad and grandpa died, and where the business thrived then died. That was when we came closer to our friends in the ward, like my sweet friend Michele, who lived just a block away. We entertained a lot, with lots of baby showers, a Mardi-gras party, and, of course, the ritual Thanksgivings. It was an event-filled time, where I felt I aged much more than two years.
In the aftermath of the business going down, we moved briefly to Sierra Madre for a summer, where we enjoyed the pool, the Sierra Madre July 4th festivities, Sophie's fourth birthday, Noah's first, and where he learned to sleep through the night (much to the frustration of our apartment neighbors). Then we were off to Redlands for 7 months where we enjoyed another little white house and our wonderful friends, the Mosses, who then went off and moved to Utah, and we missed Pasadena terribly. In Redlands I became pregnant with Lucy.
While in Redlands, I had a strong prompting in the temple that we would end up back in Utah. David didn't like this prompting. Barring complete necessity, he wasn't ever going back.
So, due to events just as chaotic as was the norm during these years, we moved back to Pasadena rather suddenly, to our current townhouse duplex, with rents now up to $2000 for such a place. We moved just in time for Lucy to arrive eleven weeks early and put us at the wonderfully generous and tender mercies of our old ward family. The almost two years we've been back have drawn us so much closer to the Lord and to the ward, put us more in His service, and has strengthened our friendships as well as our resolve to be of use in his Kingdom.
Our tenure in California has been a tremendous education. I hope I'm not just older, but wiser. Although it took me seven years to come to terms with staying forever, I've spent five years thinking I'd die here. I know I'll miss it terribly, but I'm in "doing" mode now. I'm sure after I'm unpacked, I'll sit on the couch in my living room and think, "Where am I?" Where are all my California friends?" And the reality will sink in.
But the thing I feel most for my time here and for the people I love here and for the Lord for bringing us here, is gratitude.
I first came to Los Angeles alone. I was 24, it was 1996. I had to leave David home to pack and get us ready to move because I'd been offered a great-paying job (a whopping $36K!) with a very impatient boss who insisted I start immediately. I stayed with David's cousin in La Crescenta and immediately began the local ritual of the LA commute through the San Fernando Valley, over Coldwater Canyon into to Beverly Hills. I was an office manager for the independent Laboratory run by Cedars Sinai Hospital, where my first son would be born three years later.
I was so homesick and felt I would never adjust. But it only took me the week to be comfortable navigating the traffic and knowing my way around. I visited the temple that first week by myself one night after work, and as I walked up the steps, never having been there before, I felt more homesick than ever. But as I walked in the doors, an overwhelming peace came over me and I felt a voice say, "This is your home, come back often." Anytime I felt homesick after that, I went "home" to the temple.
We'd already come down for a hasty weekend to pick an apartment in Hollywood. When we finally moved in, realized quickly that we'd been indeed hasty and far too rent-minded (only $725--we'd paid a steep $525 for our swank Capitol Hill apartment). Although it was a relatively nice building, we got a swift introduction to Hollyweird via our stoner neighbors and the gay couple next door with their super-loud (and somewhat hilarious) slap fights. I remember a night waking up to crashing sounds--some crazy person stole a car and drove it at breakneck speeds up our very narrow street lined on both sides with tightly-packed cars. The driver jumped out of the car, ran away, not to be seen again. Ah, Hollywood.
But the Hollywood ward, just as quirky and sometimes eyebrow-raising as the rest of the town, was where I got my testimony of buckling down and doing the work of the Kingdom. It was the kind of place where, as the Primary 1st Counselor, I may be the only adult there to show up, and might find myself conducting, leading music (sometimes while playing), doing sharing time, then teaching a combined class. I might have to keep the Primary President from cussing in front of the kids, and I probably would have to feed the kids granola bars because no breakfast was had at home. I'd leave feeling like I'd given a lot of blood.
It was the first time where it was very clear that if I didn't show up, an important ward auxillary just wouldn't happen. I was accustomed to riding along in the handcart of the church while all the old people pulled us along. Hollywood was where I learned to get out and push.
So, after our 9-month lease ended, we were on to Westwood. This time we we sacrificed space (only 500 feet), but paid the same and got location, location, location, where we could walk to wonderful movie theaters and restaurants, and boy, did we take advantage of all of them. I always say if I could take back the money and the calories from this time I would be rich and thin.
In the short period at Hollywood, we'd been able to walk to the Chinese theater, albeit somewhat timidly at night, but the Westside perks won out.
Although I knew the Hollywood ward needed us, we were led to start going to the UCLA Student Ward over in Westwood, and I think this is where David began to make his spiritual strides. Like our wonderful ward here in Pasadena, it was a ward heavy on the academic crowd, scientists and PhDs and post-docs, and it was an intellectually and spiritually stimulating place.
David was getting his undergrad at USC, now in Religion and Judaic Studies (although we'd come down to study film, he wasn't enjoying the program), and as soon as we came down I auditioned for and began studying opera with with Shigemi Matsumoto's studio in Northridge, paying what was essentially another tithing for the privilege. But this was the reason for my being open to coming to LA.
Meanwhile the lab where I worked was having stability issues and my boss announced he was leaving and suggested I should leave to avoid being laid off, so I took a job with our telephone system provider at the same salary. I was laid off after only 4 months, when the very small company realized they were paying me too much and didn't have anything for me to do.
I was nervous but relieved to leave that dysfuntional pit in Van Nuys, and this firing opened the way for me to interview with the Sprint PCS LA Area Sales and Marketing office, which had only 11 people when I was hired on 5/12/1997, when they had no network, but a bunch of plans, excitement, momentum and tons of money to throw around. Another proud, impatient and demanding boss here, although at least with some cult of personality, and I was hired as a generic project person--he liked me, he just didn't know what he was going to use me for.
He soon persuaded me (against all my protests that I was "past" that stage of my career) to be his Exec. Assistant. He persuaded me with money, which does indeed talk. I should have caught on quick that I would have a lot of fodder for a big, lucrative law suit in that conversation, where my religion, our faith's disinclination toward premarital sex, and later even my bra size managed to come up without any encouragement from me. He called me the "Emperor's Assistant" or his "work wife," a relationship which was never anything but platonic, although most of the office assumed otherwise. Why-oh-why am a nice girl who laughs red-faced instead of calling a lawyer?
The launch of SPCS was a crazy-intense, super-educational, career-boosting and income-generating ride, and left me well-versed in the corporate world, but clear on the ridiculous illusions of its meaningfulness that one must hold when working in it. It was here I met my dear, dear friend Doris, who has become essential to my existence.
Very shortly after taking the job at SPCS we realized that regardless of the fun of living in the "Village," the 500-sq foot thing just wasn't working for the two of us and our cat, Toe Jam. We moved into one of the fancy haunted hospital towers at Park La Brea, coming to terms with the idea that for long-term living we were going to have to deal with the $1150 rent. Our sweet almost-child Toe Jam committed suicide out our 8-story window, a very traumatic experience. We were soon joined by cats Ingrid and Bogey.
During the first two years here, I continued the annoying, expensive and roller-coasteresque ride of infertility treatments that I'd begun years before in Utah, and regular surgeries and hormone treatments were an integral part of life--thank heavens for good benefits! We'd given up many times, but after the most invasive laparotomy (that big, smiley-face belly cut) and ovarian reconstruction, we really felt "done" and started looking into adoption. That surgery was in May of 1998, and we turned down the next round of hormone treatment follow-ups, much to our specialist's disappointment.
Although the surprise career jump at SPCS really made the opera ambition more difficult, since I had much less time for practice, in the fall of 1998 I got one of the lead roles in the Santa Monica Community Opera, my second role with them, coincidentally playing a beatific nun in both: Dialogues of the Carmelites and Suor Angelica. At 26 I was playing in a shortened version (20 minutes) of a heavy-hitting Lyric Soprano role Verdi designed for 40 year olds where I had to cry, scream, sing a high-C and then commit suicide on stage. I'd say I did the best I could with what I had at the time.
But the story was significant personally: having been sent to the nunnery by my wealthy family for having an illegitimate son, my evil aunt comes to have me sign away my portion of the estate for my sister who is marrying. As I desperately and repeatedly ask about my son, she casually mentions the boy got sick and died, and coldly leaves. I am driven suicidal in an attempt to be with my son, take some poison, then suddenly realize suicide is a mortal sin and I'll never be reunited with him in heaven, but then I see a vision of Mother Mary and my son and am redeemed. As I sang and sobbed, lamenting my son and how much I wanted to hold him, I couldn't know that I'd he'd actually been conceived earlier that week.
Due to this, it was my first and last operatic lead. David started law school just a week after Ben was born. After ten weeks, I negotiated a part-time from home deal for a while until other employees' whining about my cushy life (probably due to once being being the big guys "work wife) was unfair. (Let them kiss up to a demanding guy for three years if they want perks!) So, they offered a promotion from my current role as Marketing Analyst and I went back to work full time, now as a Business Operations Manager. I just couldn't do it, I missed Ben too much, and although I liked his day care, he just seemed to have a lost look whenever I went to pick him up.
My last day at SPCS was three years to the day of my first (all us start-up type folks were getting bored with the monotony of daily operations and leaving anyway). I started doing contract graphic design for their ad pieces, and the money crunch, which we never really have escaped for too long, began. I tried odds and ends to bring in money, including my first jabs at entrepreneur efforts and a night job for a law firm downtown. We couldn't afford to continue the voice lessons, but Ben came first.
We bought a condo in Pasadena when Ben was 1, and Sophie was born about a year later--only one surgery required! Then we started the business, and I expanded it quickly although I was undercapitalized. Next I childishly insisted that we sell our condo so I could rent a house with a yard, which we did, making what we thought was a good profit, although the place reached triple that price in the coming years. At the same time, we agreed David would turn down a good job with a good firm because our business was doing well. Those three decisions, all made within a few months of each other, set the financial climate of what looks to be the rest of our lives to "Stormy Weather."
But, I didn't know that then, and I loved the two years we had in that little white house. That was where we had (and lost) Eden, where I had my only miscarriage, where Noah was born (in a birth tub in the bedroom), where we lived when my dad and grandpa died, and where the business thrived then died. That was when we came closer to our friends in the ward, like my sweet friend Michele, who lived just a block away. We entertained a lot, with lots of baby showers, a Mardi-gras party, and, of course, the ritual Thanksgivings. It was an event-filled time, where I felt I aged much more than two years.
In the aftermath of the business going down, we moved briefly to Sierra Madre for a summer, where we enjoyed the pool, the Sierra Madre July 4th festivities, Sophie's fourth birthday, Noah's first, and where he learned to sleep through the night (much to the frustration of our apartment neighbors). Then we were off to Redlands for 7 months where we enjoyed another little white house and our wonderful friends, the Mosses, who then went off and moved to Utah, and we missed Pasadena terribly. In Redlands I became pregnant with Lucy.
While in Redlands, I had a strong prompting in the temple that we would end up back in Utah. David didn't like this prompting. Barring complete necessity, he wasn't ever going back.
So, due to events just as chaotic as was the norm during these years, we moved back to Pasadena rather suddenly, to our current townhouse duplex, with rents now up to $2000 for such a place. We moved just in time for Lucy to arrive eleven weeks early and put us at the wonderfully generous and tender mercies of our old ward family. The almost two years we've been back have drawn us so much closer to the Lord and to the ward, put us more in His service, and has strengthened our friendships as well as our resolve to be of use in his Kingdom.
Our tenure in California has been a tremendous education. I hope I'm not just older, but wiser. Although it took me seven years to come to terms with staying forever, I've spent five years thinking I'd die here. I know I'll miss it terribly, but I'm in "doing" mode now. I'm sure after I'm unpacked, I'll sit on the couch in my living room and think, "Where am I?" Where are all my California friends?" And the reality will sink in.
But the thing I feel most for my time here and for the people I love here and for the Lord for bringing us here, is gratitude.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Cutting the fat
In preparing for the move, the first step has been purging the house of what I don't want that's not trash. I was hoping that would leave less in my house, but it is not noticeably different. Especially in the kitchen, I set the threshold at anything I hadn't used in the past 6 months, and I got rid of very little, as I spend a lot of time in the kitchen and really use all those silly gadgets.
But, there is still a decent-sized pile to discard, it is now taking up a quarter of our garage, waiting for the DI truck to come on Friday. We got rid of a little bit at a yard sale yesterday but it was rainy and cloudy. I think one has better luck craigslisting the bigger items and donating the small stuff, but I'm just looking to shed the stuff. It has felt good to get rid of things.
We only have two weeks left, and my head's in a fog. I'm not letting myself feel sad about leaving my friends until the end. I just feel excited about the change and think on that end. That leaves me in a little impatient limbo, not really living in the "now."
Tomorrow I actually start packing, and taking all the items that go to other people around, doing the daily scavenger hunt behind retail stores for boxes. It's really happening!
The kids are mostly excited now, but there are inklings that feelings are mixed. When I explained to Sophie today that we wouldn't be going to choir because they are practicing for the Easter program and we won't be here for that, she was really upset. She usually gets to play with her friends in the nursery during choir. This minor change seemed to represent all that was being uprooted in her life and she sobbed over it dramatically. Poor thing. Also, Noah was explaining that he wanted to stay at his house and not move anywhere. It is definitely a very major change, but it still doesn't seem real to me.
We had a wonderful lesson in patience in Relief Society today, it was MUCH needed. Patience with people and circumstances really is the key to peace on so many levels.
That's it for now!
But, there is still a decent-sized pile to discard, it is now taking up a quarter of our garage, waiting for the DI truck to come on Friday. We got rid of a little bit at a yard sale yesterday but it was rainy and cloudy. I think one has better luck craigslisting the bigger items and donating the small stuff, but I'm just looking to shed the stuff. It has felt good to get rid of things.
We only have two weeks left, and my head's in a fog. I'm not letting myself feel sad about leaving my friends until the end. I just feel excited about the change and think on that end. That leaves me in a little impatient limbo, not really living in the "now."
Tomorrow I actually start packing, and taking all the items that go to other people around, doing the daily scavenger hunt behind retail stores for boxes. It's really happening!
The kids are mostly excited now, but there are inklings that feelings are mixed. When I explained to Sophie today that we wouldn't be going to choir because they are practicing for the Easter program and we won't be here for that, she was really upset. She usually gets to play with her friends in the nursery during choir. This minor change seemed to represent all that was being uprooted in her life and she sobbed over it dramatically. Poor thing. Also, Noah was explaining that he wanted to stay at his house and not move anywhere. It is definitely a very major change, but it still doesn't seem real to me.
We had a wonderful lesson in patience in Relief Society today, it was MUCH needed. Patience with people and circumstances really is the key to peace on so many levels.
That's it for now!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)