The One With All the Mysteries

I have had some conversations lately about religion. There is a phrase that I find so interesting. It is this: “That is just a mystery. We can never know the answer.” There are mysteries. I get that. My life is, in fact full of mysteries. Things I really don’t understand.

For instance, chicken and waffles. Together on the same plate. Sorry, Roscoe. Or why I have an appendix. I mean, it is actually called an appendix. An add-on. By definition, an extra part. I won’t even touch the whole “socks in the laundry” phenomenon. I gave up on that one years ago. I have compensated for the mysterious loss of socks by a) never wearing or owning any of my own, and b) dumping everyone else’s socks, the ones that survive the Roulette wheel we call a dryer, into a basket where they have to rummage when they want a pair. This is admittedly not a very “good mom” kind of solution, but, oh well, there you have it. Anyway, point is, there are mysteries in my life.

But when it comes to God, and the doctrines of truth, I think that God wants us to understand his plan for us. There is a scripture I really like in the Book of Mormon that says “… and he that will not harden his heart, to him is given the greater portion of the word, until it is given unto him to know the mysteries of God until he know them in full.” That is found in the book of Alma, Chapter 12. If you get a minute, read verses 9-11. Yes, there are mysteries in the scriptures. And no, I don’t understand them all. For instance, even though I understand the basics of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, I can’t fully comprehend it from a mortal standpoint. But the more I study and pray, the more I understand.

An awesome recently returned missionary told me something very profound. He said that partway through his mission, he came to realize that his first responsibility was to testify of Jesus Christ, and of His infinite atonement, and next to testify of the restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ. It is that simple. Sometimes when people are studying the principles of the LDS church, they are called “investigators.” I have always thought that was an odd choice of words. But, I suppose... what else do you call someone who is trying to solve mysteries? They may be asking: Why am I here? What am I supposed to do now? What is my relationship to God? Where am I going after this? Those are not mysteries to me. Why? Because I am not just an Investigator anymore; I am also a Believer. I have seen that transformation happen to others as well. It happens when a person allows the spirit to teach, rather than just deciding that it is a mystery, that we will never understand. I don’t think Heavenly Father wants us to just give up and call it all a mystery. He wants us to be believers.

I saw a sweet little video clip today about what happens when you embrace being a believer in your everyday life. Enjoy.

The One With the Little Skateboarding Accident

So, Sunday I tripped in high heels and a dress and ate the sidewalk while walking out of church had a little skateboarding accident. Naturally, the first thing I did was look around really quick to make sure no one saw me shook it off and got back on my skateboard. I drove home and found that my first aid kit had been completely raided of anything even vaguely useful got patched up.

An hour later I decided to make bread. I managed to drop one of my steel bread pans on my big toe, which immediately started to turn purple. I yelled out loud, threw things and burst into tears bore this further insult to my body with good humor and then spent a nice afternoon on the couch with Skippy crying my eyes out.

Thank goodness I’m so chill.

The One Where She Was a Fan

There seems to be a surge in popularity on Facebook of “fanning” things. No, not like when you are lying on the beach with a native fanning you with palm fronds. Nothing like that at all. No, it is like this: Joe Lemming became a fan of “drying off after a shower.” Or maybe Christi Follower became a fan of “getting to the middle of a Tootsie Roll Pop.”

If you are not on Facebook, you think that I am exaggerating the prolificity of the fan clubs that are available to join. Here is a list of just a few. I found them just looking at my incoming news feed… these are things my friends have “fanned” in the last few hours.

i finally stop laughing... look back over at you and start all over again
if you should be doing homework now, become a fan
cuddling is not a crime
Bad day? There’s a Taylor Swift song for that.
Don’t ever break a pinky promise.
Texting on dates
Adddddinnnng exxxxxtra letterssssss to worrrrrddddsssss!!!!!!
Real Housewives of Orange County
Picking your nose
Laughing so hard it works out your abs

I am a fan. Of a lot of things. I just want to come up with them myself. I don’t need the companionship of others in my fan-ship to tell me that I am on the right track. Here are a few that I am a fan of (and apologies about twelve times for ending my sentence with a preposition):

I am a fan of going back to sleep for two hours after I drive to 5:30 seminary.
I am a fan of apple crisp for breakfast. With ice cream, if I am so inclined.
I am a fan of unsolicited neck rubs.
I am a fan of Thomas S. Monson.
I am a fan of really sexy high heels, makeup that I have to pay through the nose for at the Lancome counter, J. Crew t-shirts, expensive hair appointments, and that cheap body spray they sell at Victoria’s Secret.
I am a fan of spelling things correctly. And using proper grammar (incomplete sentences don’t really bother me ☺). I am a fan of not caring so much when other people misspell.
I am a fan of letters in the mail, and I am also a fan of text messaging.
I am a fan of sports movies that make you cry when they win in the end.
I am a fan of being alone in my own house.
I am a fan of rain.
I am a fan of my family.
I am a fan of pickup trucks. Especially the kind that are already a little beat up so that you can throw things in them and not worry too much about it.
I am a fan of Shannon Hale’s books. I wish there was one she wrote that I somehow didn’t hear about, so that I could discover it today, and say “Oh my gosh! I never read that one!” and then I would read it. Maybe with a fire in the fireplace, and rain outside.
I am a fan of friends.
I am a fan of someone else doing the dishes.

Some of the things I mentioned are Facebook fan clubs. Who knows? Maybe I should even join a few. In fact, you can be a fan of Jesus Christ on Facebook. Just to be clear, I am a fan of Jesus Christ. I just find that I don’t want to be one on Facebook. I think it worries me that last time I checked, he has less fans than Twix bars. That’s just not right.

The One Where She Got Caught. Twice.

Today, I answer the all-important question: Is there really any bad time to eat a root beer float? I won’t sport with you here: YES. The answer is yes.

This morning I discussed healthy eating with Cambria, and then we worked out what her exercise for the morning would be. I let her eat a healthy, low-fat breakfast of cereal and milk, and then she went to get her walking shoes on. That was when it happened.

I spotted the root beer from across the room. I knew there was ice cream in the freezer. I have been trying not to eat a lot of sugar, and on the top of the no-no list is soda. I love soda. I love the fizz… I love Sprite with Mexican food. I love root beer with pizza. Dr. Pepper any old time. Love love love. But I don’t buy much soda, and I try to limit myself to an occasional sugar-free one as a treat. Be that as it may… there was that A and W... winking at me, I swear it.

In theory, I don’t have a big problem with root beer floats for breakfast. It’s dairy, right? I thought to myself, I will just wait until Cambria leaves before I have a root beer float for breakfast. I mean, how bad of a mom gives her daughter the health lecture and then eats a root beer float in front of her. All I have to do is wait ten minutes. But no. I couldn’t wait a whole ten minutes. I thought, I will just make it really quick while she gets on her shoes. She will head out the front door and won’t even see me. So just as I was taking the first bite, Cambria walked in to fill her water bottle. Oops. Caught!

As nonchalantly as I could manage, I walked into the backyard to sit in the sun and eat my float. Don’t judge me. And that could have been the end of the story. But no. I finished eating that root beer float, and I thought to myself, there was just enough root beer and ice cream left for another. Cam was nearly five minutes’ gone. So just as I was pouring and slurping foam on root beer float number two, Cambria popped back in to grab the ipod shuffle. Caught. Again!

I know what you’re wondering… what am I planning for lunch, right? A whole cheesecake? A batch of cookie dough? I’m open to suggestions.

The One Where He Raced Against Death

When I read a hardcover book, the first thing I do is whip the dust jacket off and stow it somewhere safe. I would guess that at least half the time I never manage to reunite the book with its cover… but it is always my intention. I finished a book last night. It was the twelfth in a series of books that each spanned about 800 pages.

Back in 2005, Robert Jordan (which is a pen name for James Oliver Rigney, Jr.) announced that this twelfth book would at last end the series. He had slowed down to a book about every two years, and long about the beginning of 2007, I began to search the internet for news about this eagerly awaited (certainly by me) novel. I found a website called “Dragonmount” which was apparently Jordan’s official website, and also a blog of sorts for him. It was then and there that I read the distressing news: Robert Jordan had been diagnosed with the fatal heart disease cardiac amyloidosis. He had begun a race against the disease to finish this last book, A Memory of Light.

I began visiting that site frequently, as I was saddened by this news, but also fascinated by the idea that he was so determined to finish this work. The disease unfortunately progressed quickly, and rather than working to complete the novel, Jordan began to feverishly prepare for the eventuality that another novelist would complete the novel for him. He said, “I’m getting out notes, so if the worst actually happens, someone could finish a Memory of Light and have it end the way I want it to end.” On September 16th of 2007, Jordan lost that race, and the conclusion of his life’s work was up in the air.

In December of 2007, Tor Books announced that Brandon Sanderson, a fantasy author and Brigham Young University professor, was to finish A Memory of Light. He was chosen by Jordan’s widow in part because she liked his fantasy novels, and in part because of a eulogy Sanderson had written for Jordan.

So… back to last night. I got to about 100 pages from the end, and I realized something. This book is not wrapping up to a conclusion. Since the entire series pointed to a “last battle,” the final showdown, so to speak, I had to imagine that by page 700 of the last book, we would be getting to said showdown. But no… not even close. At midnight last night I finished, and… the story definitely did not. I retrieved the dust jacket to find some sort of explanation. Here is how observant I was: first of all, the title of the book is “The Gathering Storm,” not A Memory of Light. Secondly, right on the dust jacket, it says, “First book of A Memory of Light.” Like I said, I had that dust jacket off pretty fast. I went back to Dragonmount and found that in 2009, Tor Books announced that A Memory of Light would be split into three volumes. Haha! Silly me.

I am totally down with that, since I was not really ready for it to be over, and also because Sanderson did a bang-up job of honoring the memory of Robert Jordan with a seamless transition in this book. I don’t do many book reviews here, but if you are an utterly hopeless sci-fi fantasy geek like me, and prefer books that are not sexually explicit (too many of them are, I am afraid), and you don’t mind an 800-page read, this is a great series. I love the characters, and the amazing premise Jordan created. If you decide to attempt it, you will want to start with “Eye of the World.”

The One Where She Faced the Dragon

I am at war. With my 12-year-old daughter. I tell her what to do. She agrees (often angrily, tearily or both), and then does what she wants instead. Maybe my boys were this hard to motivate, but I knew that for somewhere between 20 and 40 hours a week, they were going to be at school, where inspiration would be the job of the best teachers my tax money can buy. That didn’t always work out so well, either. But with homeschooling, it is my job 24/7. And about half the time, I am failing.

My own mom is a lot better at this. When she comes down for a visit, or when Cambria goes there, they turn out piles and piles of art and math and writing and social studies... but I seem to lack the Girl Mom gene. When I suggest such industry, I just get that look that says, “As if.”

Her education is not necessarily suffering... her standardized test scores remain very high. She is very talented and clever and witty. But she is happy to make me crazy for hours over one small writing assignment. I also don’t understand the tears. Clearly, I am making her cry. That I understand. But all I asked her to do is finish a science page.

Perhaps the key is to include an art assignment on each page. The dragon illustration was part of her English assignment... maybe I just need to figure out how to get her to illustrate her math?

The One With the Burning Love

You know I love Valentine’s Day. I am practical, yes. Logical... more than most. But I love romance. And surprises. And sugar cookies with frosting. And the list goes on. So here is the short version of my weekend.

Friday: I made DK a pretty good dinner. New York steaks, roasted asparagus, and melt-in-your-mouth Mushroom Risotto. Muy bueno. He loved it so much that he broke out my Valentine early. It was a big pink-wrapped box of Belgian chocolates. I ripped off the paper, lifted the lid, and removed the padded paper from the top... and found that someone had tampered with the package. Two thirds of the candy had been unceremoniously dumped, and replaced with... a brand-new cellphone! It was pretty cool. Pull-out keyboard, touch screen. I was excited. I have been without a cellphone for six weeks now. He asked me: Do you like it? Of course I like it! Oh... then you probably don’t care about this (pulling another little box from his bag of tricks):

Yes, an iPhone. He said I could choose between the two phones. Man, I hate when he does that. How can I not choose the iPhone, for goodness sake? It doesn’t have a phone number yet, because AT&T did not hear that it was Valentine’s Day, and that they should make my day by letting us add a line... no... they do not share my love of romance. But we are going to figure that out this week.

Saturday: Drove down to pick up Ethan from the Marine base for his three-day weekend. 72 degrees. Ocean views. Not a bad way to spend the morning.

Sunday: Making BBQ brisket, macaroni and cheese, homemade rolls... for Valentine’s Day, yes. But for this guy:

Home from his mission, and here to visit, and I can’t wait to see him. In fact, I am not the only one. Skippy has asked me fifteen times in the last hour... is he almost here? Yes, he is almost here. Oh. And I am making those aforementioned sugar cookies. Which may be my favorite treat. In. The. World. Ever. The End.

Happy Valentine’s Day... love love love love love love...

The One That Explains Quite a Bit

Heard around the house:

Dillon: So, Mom, this whole dating thing pretty much sucks, right?

Cambria: I’ve finished my school work for the day. I’m just going to kill Nazi Zombies for a while.

Ethan: Mom, who do you think is the smartest in our family? And don’t tell me I’m in the top five or six. I hate that.

Tyler: Mom, can I have a machete for my birthday?

Dillon: If you felt like making some white bread once in awhile, I could totally get behind that.

Josh: Mom, please never put Jessi in charge of us again! Me: Josh, she is your wife, and besides, she got you and your brothers to clean the whole downstairs. Josh: I know. It was awful. Dillon: Yes, Mom, she was super mean. And besides, it’s not even fair... Casey ditched out after half an hour. Casey: Yeah, Jessi told me to get back to work, but I asked Josh if I could go, and he said yes. Jessi: Now we know which one is going to be the nice parent.

Skippy: Mama, is there homemade bread? Me: I just put loaves into the oven for Dillon. They’ll be ready in a half hour. Skippy: No! That’s white bread. I mean homemade bread.

Casey: Mom, you don’t let Skip watch Dora, the Explorer, do you? I mean, you know she is totally an illegal immigrant, right?

Ethan: Guess what, Mom... I got Dillon an iPhone! Me: What? What about me? You know I have been wanting an iPhone for forever. Ethan: Mom, it wouldn’t do you any good. You don’t even have a phone number. And besides, you know Dillon has always been my favorite. Me: Thanks.

Skippy: What is our dinner going to be? Me: I was thinking Mommy’s super-duper homemade hamburgers and chips and soda. Skippy: How come we never have shrimp?

Tyler: Mom, can I have a chainsaw for my birthday?

Dillon: Have you ever noticed that Cambria has a really evil laugh? Me: Dillon, that’s not very nice. Cambria: {evil laugh}

Jessi: I think Josh is cheating on me with Apple Computer.

Dillon: Mom, can you take me? Dad likes to conserve gas.

Kevin: Hey, do you think you could take a few pictures of my rear end for the insurance company?

Casey: Mom, how come Cambria is always so mean? Me: You mean, mean in a nice sort of way? Casey: No, I mean, mean in a mean sort of way.

Skippy (the day he was the spotlight child in primary hour at church): How come you told them my favorite places to eat are Subway and Flame Broiler? Me: Because you like to go to those places...? Skippy (with angry tears): Round Table! Geez.

Cambria and Skippy: Mom, we are making you a Wii “Me.” It is going to look just like you. There’s one that has wrinkles. Do you want us to use that one?

Tyler: Can I have a blowtorch for my birthday? Me: Fine.

Casey: Can I bring a couple of friends over, and we have taco night? Me: Sure. How many is a couple? Casey: No more than fifteen.

Ethan: Mom, I was on your Facebook profile, and my Master Sergeant saw your picture. He said, “Who is that?” I said, “That’s my mom, Master Sergeant.” {insert favorite Marine expletive here.} He wanted to know if you were single. I told him you were married, so he said, “Happily married?” What do you want me to tell him?

The One With the Ultimate Makeover

February is my second-favorite month. I love that it only has 28 days, except when that oddity known as Leap Year makes it an uneven 29. I love days off school courtesy of long-dead presidents. I thoroughly {heart} Valentine's Day... love and candy and frosted sugar cookies, all inextricably entwined... more on that later...

AND I adore Groundhog Day. Why? Because of Bill Murray, Andie McDowell, and, yes, Punxsatawny Phil. On February 2nd, somewhere in Pennsylvania they pulled a rodent out of a cage to predict the weather... whilst I was wrapped up in a blanket watching Groundhog Day. We quote lines from that movie all the time... It has become a family tradition of sorts. But what I love most about the movie is Phil Connors’ (yes, he shares a name with the groundhog) transformation at the end of the movie. I love a good makeover, and this one is ultimately more satisfying than the physical kind.

Finding that he, alone, is repeating the same day over and over, he goes through various stages of coping, including taking advantage of the lack of consequences, repeated suicide attempts, and using his knowledge of the other characters (and that there is no tomorrow) to indulge his worldly appetites. But eventually he chooses to be good. But not just good... He develops new talents and begins to spend his days performing acts of service. He learns how to be unselfish. He makes friends of everyone in the town. It is when he realizes he can actually be happy even while repeating the same day over and over, that he is finally able to move on to tomorrow.

So much of real life is the same day over and over. We go to school or work, or care for our families. I think I just like knowing that I can have a transformation if I want it, too. Learn something new... step out of my comfort zone and make a CD. Practice and make perfect. Read something great. Be a cool friend. Change my whole heart. Every day is a new opportunity to choose how to spend my extra time... and yesterday is not so important. I love that. February is pretty much amazing. It is 10:46 a.m. and I am still in my pajamas. What is wrong with this picture?

The One Where She Caught a Break

I caught a little break this week. I have been trying to stay on top of things, and for someone who is practically a shut-in, I always seem to have a lot of little things to do. Preparing lessons and planning activities for girls at my church, baking twelve loaves of bread so far this week… those are just the usual. But I have had something more important weighing on my mind. Maybe I should say someone more important. Tandy.

If you followed my Christmas music blog, or listened to any of the music, or bought a CD, then you know who Tandy is. She is one of my favorite singers. I know that I am supposed to make another CD this year, and I have been determined not to wait until I only have two months left before I start. I also know that I would really like for Tandy to sing two or three songs on that CD. The only thing is, Tandy is leaving. She is going to be serving a mission for our church in Kobe, Japan, and she leaves in three weeks!

I already have one song I want her to sing, but I wanted to write and record two original songs in addition to that one. So this week I set a goal that I would get one of the songs written. There is a really nice lady named Zoe who is planning to be baptized on Saturday, and she asked Tandy to sing at her baptism. Since I actually work better with a purpose and a deadline, I decided Monday that I would write a song that Tandy could sing on Saturday for the baptism. I was barely hyperventilating about that at all.

So yesterday I made myself sit down at the keyboard and start playing. I kept playing a certain melody that sounded familiar, but couldn’t quite place it. Then it came to me: I already have a song! The melody was from a song I wrote in the summer. I tried to record it, but it wasn’t working. Something wasn’t right about the words, the melody, the accompaniment, or all three. I just don’t know. It was very discouraging at the time. I felt like I had felt so inspired to write those words, and yet they didn’t work. It made me question what I was doing, and I threw the whole thing… not into the trash, but into my deepest drawer, and covered it with papers.

So yesterday I dug it out, dusted it off, and played through it with Tandy. And guess what! We are doing it for the baptism… and then recording it next week. I feel like I just got a little boost that I wasn’t expecting. The Spirit is like that sometimes, when you least expect it, and sometimes don’t even deserve it. Now I can’t wait for Saturday! If you want to hear the premiere of the song, you can come to the baptism:).

I haven’t decided whether I will post music that is going to be on my next CD. What do you think? Do you listen to it? You can tell me the truth. Meanwhile, I thought I would put up a hymn for you, in case you do. I admit, I hate it when we sing this when a missionary leaves. It makes everyone cry. I think I begged them not to do it when my boys left on their missions. But I still love the hymn… Mind you, this is very rough, so ignore mistakes!

The One With the Five-Minute Poster

Bad mom moment, averted. At least for today. This morning I woke Skippy up for school. There was no school yesterday, and he was tired from all that rest. By the time I dragged him kicking and screaming coaxed him out of his warm blankets, he only had about five minutes to get ready. That was when it suddenly occurred to me: Skippy is Star of the Week. {insert curse words here} Do I seriously have to make another Star of the Week poster? I have been making them for lo, these twenty years.

Miracle #1. I found a piece of poster board that was not too wrinkled.

Miracle #2. My color printer does a pretty decent job, so I was digging through digital albums on my computer, not through shoe boxes in my laundry room shelves.

Miracle #3. iPhoto prints in standard photo sizes... 3x5, 4x6, 5x7, 8x10... and it will even add a nice-looking mat or double mat around the photo.

Miracle #4. Wood glue will glue paper to poster board.

Miracle #5. Skipster was only ten minutes late to school.

Now, I just have to make sure to send in a picture of his favorite food tomorrow. He insists that his favorite food is cotton candy. Yes, out of all the food I make, his favorite is cotton candy. I don’t think that qualifies as a food, and I am not even positive he has ever even tasted cotton candy before, so I’m not sure where that came from. But, well... okay.

P.S. Why do I never get to be Star of the Week? (okay... repenting, here... on New Year’s Eve, we celebrated Victoria Day, wherein DK made me Star of the Day and we did everything I wanted to do. But I could still come up with a pretty good list of the privileges that come with Star of the Week, Victoria-style... haha!)

The One Where I Would Like My Friends Back

Dear AT&T,

How are you? I haven’t heard from you in awhile. In a way it is almost like you are one of my kids… the one that I only hear from when you need money. And of course, of late it has been difficult for you to reach me. Why? Well, I’m glad you asked. It is because I don’t have a cell phone. If you have tried to call me on my old cell phone number, you probably reached my son Casey. When he returned home after a two-year absence, he had no phone, and after much deliberation, I gave him mine. You see, apparently “your hands are tied,” because the AT&T family plan maxes out at five lines. While I realize that in China this family plan would seem generous to the point of being ridiculous, I actually have more family members than that, and I find it troubling that you do not want us all to share the same plan.

It seems you would require us to purchase a second family plan, texting plan, minutes plan, data plan... in fact, if I didn’t know better, I would say it was a plot on your part to extract more money from my budget than I already send you for my television service, my internet, my home phone, and the five-line family plan for which I already pay handsomely… despite the fact that I have been a loyal AT&T customer for twenty years.

I have tried to just “make do.” There was a time in the not-so-distant past that I got by fine without a cell phone. And yes, it has been a month with no cell phone, and I am still alive. Nothing terrible happened. But I will admit to being just a little bit lonely. In December, I received 1,500 text messages. In January, zero. I know what you are thinking… I have just managed to free up several hours in a single month for other activities. With that much spare time, I could have written a song… read a book… maybe climbed a mountain. Well, a very small mountain. But no. I did none of those things, and in fact have no idea where those hours even went, and do you know what? I want them back. Better yet, I would like my friends back… that ones that used to call and text me. Can you do that for me, AT&T? And while you’re at it, maybe you could just add another line to our family plan. I have already done all the hard work… I gave birth to these children. All I am asking you to do is add lines for them, for which you will be paid yet more money. Seems more than fair to me.

Hope to hear from you soon. You’ll have to call the home phone. I don’t answer it very much, I’m afraid.

xoxo
Victoria

The One With the Dead Ringer

I noticed that on Facebook everyone is saying it is “Doppelganger Week.” You are supposed to post a photo of the celebrity that everyone is always telling you you look like. Well, no one has ever told me I look like a celebrity. Nor am I self-aware enough to look at someone and think, “Wow, I look a lot like that person.” So I went to www.myheritage.com and clicked on Celebrities and Fun, and I uploaded a picture of myself. It runs what I hope is a very low-tech face recognition program, and then tells you the celebrities that you look the most like. You think,  oh, cool... maybe I will look like someone really pretty, right? Here is what I got. I am going to go hide, now.

The One With the 6:00 a.m. Wakeup Call

Casey went to Big Bear Friday night. Big Bear got six new feet of snow that day. Chains required, roads closed. Probably not the best idea, but he and his friends were determined. I went to bed that night thinking of him, and also of Ethan, flying in from Virginia to his new station at MCRD San Diego. Suddenly my eyes flew open. The phone was ringing. It was dark. That is never good news, right? Check the clock: 6:00 a.m. I jumped out of bed and flew down the stairs to just miss the last ring of the phone. My mind, which had been occupied by weird dreams only seconds before, began to quickly generate scenarios, none of them good.

Caller ID: Ethan. “Mom, I’m in the barracks in San Diego.” Mmm, okay...? I just found out I don’t have to check in until Sunday night. Can you and Dad come and get me? Mmm, okay.

I climbed back under my down blanket and thought, just a couple more hours of sleep, and then we can go get Ethan. Two minutes later... let’s just go now. We drove down the coast for an hour and twenty minutes. After four straight days of drowning in rain, the skies were bluer than normal, and the hills greener. Everything freshly washed and glistening. Lance Corporal in the back seat. All well with the world.

Apparently Casey had texted Dillon at 2:00 that morning to let him know they finally made it up the hill in the snow Dillon didn’t think it was important enough to tell me that until Sunday on the way home from church. Fortunately, I am not a worrier.

The One Where She Can’t Get it Out of Her Head

I have been working on music this week. Not quite sure where to go with it right now, but I am trying.

This song... Prodigal Son...  has been in my mind a lot lately. It is a song that I think is really fun, but it is more than that. In a way, it seems like this song encapsulates what the composing and recording process is like. It was fun and it was frustrating. It was simple, but I managed to make it complicated. I worked the longest on it, yet it is not finished. The bottom line is, I know when I listen to it, that I didn’t capture the performance I was looking for. I love the way my Christmas CD turned out, but I learned so much this year... much of it, actually, while recording and editing this song... and I know I can do this so much better. It is my dream to hear it with no regrets.

I don’t know if “no regrets” is possible. Like the song, it is all about repentance, forgiveness, moving on to the next thing. Like I said, simple... but I can usually manage to make it complicated:).

{Artwork is “Father and Son Dancing” by one of my favorite artists, Brian Kershisnik. If you would like to read more about how I wrote the song, you can check out this post from last year.}
 


Click on the mp3 player to listen:

Prodigal Son

I’ve been walking this path for far too long
I feel weak
It’s harder and harder to breathe
I know
It’s just a case of choosing right or wrong
But in this dark place
Sometimes I can barely see.


Show me
The way I can finally be free
There’s a fire that’s burning inside of my soul
I am ready now
To give all my sins and hurt to thee
Take my troubles
I’m giving them all away.


You have had the perfect answers all along
You tried to tell me
But I didn’t have ears to hear
Now there’s music where before I heard no song
And when you sing
The message becomes so clear.


Will you show me
The way I can finally be free?
There’s a fire that is burning inside of my soul
I am ready now
To give all my sins to thee
Lay my troubles down
At my Savior’s feet
I’m giving them all away.


Please
Forgive me for the times I turned away
How’d I forget that
I was my father’s son?
I let temptation lead me so far astray
That it left me
No other choice but to run.


I think I see
The way I can finally be free
There’s a fire that is burning inside of my soul
I am ready now
To give all my sins to thee
Lay my troubles down
I’m giving them all away.

Lay my troubles down
I’m giving them all away.


Still, it’s not enough to say that I’ve come home
I’m your servant
Yearning to do my part
Father, as long as I live I’ll never roam
Just look inside me
You’ll find a disciple’s heart.


Now I finally see
How to live and be free
There’s a fire that’s burning inside of my soul
I am ready now
To give all my sins to thee
Lay my troubles down
At my Savior’s feet
I’m giving them all away.

The One With the Trash Bin Parade

I know, I know... two posts in one day. But it had to be done. I don’t usually even click on video links, but this one is awesome:). I actually watched it about four times yesterday, and then begged to borrow it for the blog. It was shot by my friend Rachel on Tuesday, and was filmed about a block from my house. In case you thought I was kidding about the weather in my Tuesday post, this is what I was talking about...

The One Where Everyone Was Here

Ethan almost didn’t make it home for Christmas... his flight was scheduled out of Washington, D.C., and all of the flights from there were canceled. So they put him on a flight to Newark, where they parked him on the floor for the night, and the next day he managed to find a flight to LAX. So we only had him for two days... but for those two days, everyone was home. It was crazy and fun, and did I mention crazy? {Click on any of the photos to view them large}

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Random Vacation facts:

On Christmas Eve the kids got ready to bake the sugar cookies by preheating the ovens, where I had two full batches of orange rolls rising in plastic bowls covered by kitchen towels. Need I say more?

Skippy got a tattoo kit in his Christmas stocking (I’m not going to lie... Santa is a little edgy at times) and surprised us by charging all of the young adults who are always hanging out at our house 19 cents per tattoo, and turned a tidy little profit for himself. He now has $28.76 in his money jar.

Everyone entertained themselves by trying to get Jif to walk several steps. He would only perform if the reward offered was electronics, such as a cell phone. I myself have decided not to budge for anything less than a new iPhone. So far it is not working well for me.

Josh got straight A’s his first semester at UCLA Law School, with the exception of a single A-, which has bruised his ego enough that this week I was finally able to beat him at online Scrabble.

Ethan told me over the phone that he had gained 40 pounds since basic training. I didn’t believe him... until he arrived. He fell asleep on the couch in a jet-lag-induced stupor, and it took four boys to carry his Marine body up the stairs without throwing him into a fireman-carry.

Josh and Jessi came over to the dark side, and sacrificed their anti-video-game vows on the altar of Rock Band for X-Box 360. It was at once sad and entertaining.

There are many more random facts... but you have places to go and people to see. I am going to work on my New Year’s resolution. Exercise? you ask... no. I am striving to make the perfect donut. There are so many recipes in the world:)

The One Where it Rained Cats and Dogs

Okay, maybe it didn’t actually rain cats and dogs. But it has been a seriously weird, dark day of hailstorms, thunder and lightning and flash floods. And to make things more interesting, it is trash day. Our trash can remained firmly anchored in front of our house, but all over town, full trash cans were taken from their residences on a wicked water ride to intersections and main streets, where they left debris everywhere. On the way to pick up Skippy from school, it was like a trash and vegetation obstacle course to reach him. The storm drains were plugged with huge piles of trash and the gutters are about six feet wide with muddy water. And did I mention my electricity went out? Interesting fact: I can still e-mail and text from my ipod touch during an electricity outage because the AT&T router is on a backup battery pack! Interesting...

This is the “little storm.” The big one is scheduled to arrive on Thursday. Keep your eye out for us floating by on a raft or something.

The One With the Christmas Card Dilemma

I love Christmas cards. I love coming up with something cool and unique to send. I love addressing them. I love sending them. I love the people I send them to. I even try really really really hard not to make the “family letter” part too obnoxious or long. Even though, as you know, I love to make things really long and obnoxious.

This year was no exception. I found some awesome cards. They are from a place called photoworks.com and they open up into a really cool family tree poster with little photos of everyone on the tree. I must admit that there is no actual group family picture this year... it seems I could never get more than five of us together in the same place until Christmas day. But there are a lot of fun pictures on it, and I love the cards.

So, what is the problem? Was I late ordering the cards? No. I had them in my hot little hands by the second week of December. That was when I started to become rather overwhelmed. Busy. Crazy. A little bit lame. Diffuse. I gave Christmas cards to a couple of people to whom I was mailing gifts, and the remaining 90 or so are sitting in a box behind a curtain in my living room. I might add that these are not the 50-cents-a-card variety... they were my December splurge. Then New Year’s rolled around. Perfectly acceptable to call them New Year’s cards, right? And then the first of the year I kind of lost heart for a little while. Now that I am working on finding it again, those cards are just mocking me, because it is January 16th. I can’t even call them New Year’s cards at this point! Should I send some out? Open them all up into posters and paper a bathroom wall? Use them as gift wrap? Help!

P.S. If you are looking at the blog and it has this funky green and magenta background... I tried it on, and just had to leave it for a little while. It reminds me of that old Rock Hudson and Doris Day movie from decades ago... Pillow Talk. In the movie, she wants to get revenge for his womanizing, and so she redecorates his apartment like a brothel... very tacky and tasteless. I am not saying this background is exactly that, but it did put me in mind of that... like you should be able to push a button and you would get mood lighting and music, and a bed would appear out of the wall.

P.P.S. I am done with so much introspection, and back to occasional blogging, in case you hadn’t noticed. Thank you to many many people who e-mailed me to make sure I was still alive, and ask when I would post again. You are very kind.

The One Where She Gives You a Second Chance

Okay, I’m not back from break. But I have had a lot of people tell me they are sad that they “missed” my Christmas present, which was my recipe file. You are not too late. I don’t want to leave it up for everyone in the world to download. But for you, anything. If you would like to download the recipes and you missed them when the link was active, just send me a quick e-mail to vixlove@gmail.com, and I will send you a link. Or if there is anything else I can do for you, just let me know. Second chances are a good thing.

The One Where She Takes a Break

I am going to be taking a break from blogging for awhile... I know you are thinking, haven’t you already been taking a break? I haven’t been posting much, it is true. I need to work on some projects, and I need to limit distractions for awhile. I am leaving the blog up so that you can find me if you need to. The Christmas blog will also remain up, but since it is no longer Christmas, I am finished posting on that blog for the next many months.

The One Where She Gives You a Little Present

Yes, she has been pretty grumpy for awhile. Sorry about that. I thought maybe you would like a little present to get you through the week. I know you want me to make you food. I can’t. I honestly don’t even know where you all live. I’m not even sure who reads me at all! If I could cook for you I would, but this is the next best thing. It is all of my recipes. I am only going to leave the link active for a week, so download whatever you wish. I print these out in color and put them in sheet protectors. No, it is not all of my favorite recipes, but it is probably about 50 of them... and most of them include a photograph I have taken. Some are already on the blog, some are not... but these have the advantage of all being in one place. Enjoy! Also, if you would like a gift of a different sort (but no less heartfelt), wander on over to the Christmas blog. Merry Christmas!

Vic’s Recipes

The One Where She {Almost} Drowned in Eggnog

Alright, I am just going to come right out and admit it. I have committed myself to do too many things, for too many people, right before Christmas! There is probably a 12-step program for this, where I could get up and say, “Hello, my name is Victoria, and I am a… (I don’t even know what you call it) girl who can’t say no?” In my defense, it is difficult to pass up opportunities to earn extra money, especially this time of year. Some of these gigs pay.

But I would like to bake a few goodies, maybe put up a Christmas tree, buy a couple of presents, send out the Christmas cards and make the house look nice for my family. I haven’t had time for those things, and I really have no one to blame but myself, so I will not even begin to bore you by listing the things I have done this week or still have to do… in fact, if I get a full night’s sleep tonight, tomorrow I might feel entirely different about this. I can do without a meal now and then, but sleep deprivation makes me, well… full of self-pity. At the moment I feel like I am drowning. Maybe in a tub full of egg nog, with a strand of garland wrapped around my neck a few times, just to be festive about it.

So an hour ago, I started this post and wrote that all down, and then my visiting teachers came over. If you are not conversant with my Mormon talk, there are a couple of women who stop by once a month to check and make sure I haven’t drowned in eggnog or been strangled by tinsel or whatever, and while they are here they give me a short inspirational message. So Teri told me the message was about compassion. She started to cry, and told me that every time she has had a bad time, I seem to just know, and I see her and tell her exactly what she needs to hear, and I don’t try to fix her problems, which usually can’t be fixed anyway, but I just hug her and tell her that things will work out… and apparently other profound things. She told me that I was her personal example of compassion.

That stabbed me in the heart a little bit. I have been drowning in the aforementioned eggnog/pity, as well as ignoring thirty calls a day from someone who we will call Christine the Crazy Lady, a semi-homeless, entirely carless (that’s car-less, not careless) “born-again” Filipino woman who is unusually preoccupied with The Rapture, to whom I have given a few rides. I have not been as compassionate as I should, and that is probably why I feel like I am drowning. It was a message I really needed to hear. I am going to go take a nap, and then get back to work.



Happily ☺. I promise.

The One Where Casey Came Home

Casey is home. We waited at the escalator for the arriving passengers. Skippy and Dillon stood right at the bottom, gazing upward for the first glance of a dark suit and missionary nametag. I knew Skippy would start dancing with excitement when he spotted his brother, but it was not Skip, but 16-year-old Dillon, who turned to me with an almost giddy expression, and said, “He’s here!” Ten seconds later, down he came into our arms… too tall, too skinny, already needing a shave at noon, and carrying a handcrafted sombrero, the gift of a hispanic woman he baptized in Dallas.

Our first stop was Casey’s release. Because he was an ordained minister for our church, and had been called as such, and his service as a full-time missionary was over, he had to be formally released. We all sat in a conference room, where after a short private interview with Casey, the member of our stake presidency told Elder McDaniel that he was officially released from being a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. At which point, he began to cry like a baby. We all cried. He removed the nametag that had marked him as a missionary, and put it in his pocket. President Carter asked him what he had learned in two years, and he said through his tears that he couldn’t say, because he couldn’t remember what he knew before.

I know exactly what he means. I’m not sure what I knew before, either. Today is the first day in five years that I haven’t had a missionary. No missionaries out, no missionaries living in my home. It is a happy day, and it is so sad that I can’t stop crying right now. From each missionary, I have learned so much that I am not sure what I really knew before. Please forgive me as I am about to do each of my missionaries a disservice by telling one or two things I learned from them, when in reality I learned enough things from each that it would require a whole post to tell.

From Elder Josh McDaniel, I learned how to send a missionary out. What a great way to start, with a missionary that had spent his whole life preparing to go, and his whole life since holding onto the best of his mission, while adding new graces every single day. Josh is the most consistently cheerful and upbeat person I know, and I learned from him that every single day could be my “best day.”

Elder Breyman taught me hospitality. As I opened my home to missionaries not my own, I found that they were my own after all, and that I could truly love them that much. From Elder Breyman I also learned that everything is not just bigger, but also better in Texas, and that you can make almost anything from duct tape.

From Elder Krenkel, I learned that it was okay to fall down. Blood and bruises are a badge of honor, that show you haven’t been sitting around all day. Elder Krenkel also showed me how much a person can grow and change in a short period of time, and he never failed to amaze me with his humble love of the gospel and beautiful teaching style.

Elder Danielson showed me obedience and how to follow leadership. Coming from a tiny town in North Dakota, he was dropped into the middle of the Real Housewives of Orange County. For days, he simply followed Elder Breyman. By following a good example, the time came when he was a leader in his own right.

Elder Tyler McDaniel taught me that missionary work is about saving souls. Sometimes the soul you have to save is not a stranger’s, but your companion’s. His enemies were anger, frustration and discouragement, and he conquered them so that he could be free to do the work that Heavenly Father had laid out for him. He showed brotherly love to his companions, and kept a very little brother Skippy waiting by the mailbox for the amazing illustrated letters he sent so that Skippy would remember a brother over two long years. It worked.

Elder Gould taught me that life is not a popularity contest. His kind spirit and desire to do the right thing inspired other missionaries, members of the church and all the people that he met on his mission. He taught me the importance of confidence, and that when you are doing the right thing, you can and should be confident. Elder Hopkins taught me to express love for people that are not my immediate family. I had never really considered doing that, and he made me realize how important it really is, and that by extending that love, my family circle just becomes that much larger. From Elder Hopkins I also learned that stalkers aren’t just on TV.

From Elder Pfile I learned courage. He took his weaknesses, like a fear of street contacting, and turned them into strengths by conquering fear. He showed me how important it is to have passion for what you are doing, and never took a sick day in two years. He set the best example I have ever known of what it means to be truly repentant. From him I learned that the only true apology is a humble one. At the same time, he taught me about having fun even when things are difficult. He also taught me about loyalty, as he was fiercely loyal to me and my family.

From Elder Waller I learned that a tough and stern exterior may just be guarding a tender heart. He showed that when you know someone loves you, it makes all the difference. I learned from Elder Waller the power music has to unite people, and he also showed me the importance of gratitude for small acts of kindness, and the importance of doing small acts of kindness every day.

From Elder Hobley I learned compassion, as he showed that compassion to me in difficult times, and as he showed it to others. He helped me realize what a comfort a sense of humor can be, and that it is okay to be big, goofy and childlike because it makes everyone else happy when you are happy. What a great trait to have! He taught me to think before speaking or acting, but not to let people push you around. I also learned from Elder Hobley that one can hunt spiders with swords. Who knew?

Elder Crane taught me about discipline. All my missionaries were hardworking, but Elder Crane was one of the best examples of how to give your best effort at all times. He had the determination to reach goals that others would find too daunting to even attempt. He showed me triumph over adversity, and love for his companions. I learned from Elder Crane how a positive attitude and modesty (combined with the ability to blush) would attract people and make them want to learn from him.

From Elder Murray I learned about possibilities. Elder Murray was excited to try anything. His desire to excel was inspiring, and made me want to learn new things as well. Elder Murray was an example of patience and kindness under all circumstances, and in half a year I never even saw him give in to frustration, much less anger. That is remarkable. Another thing that Elder Murray showed me was how to build up the people around me by showing them their own best traits. I think his own best trait was childlike faith... another thing he taught me.

Elder Felkner was the example of gentleness and kindness. His McDaniel-like sense of humor was tempered by an awareness of others’ feelings at all times. While all of our missionaries have been unfailingly polite and considerate, Elder Felkner was the best example I have seen of being gentleman-like and moderate in his speech and actions. I learned by watching his loving behavior, particularly toward a certain pesky five-year-old boy, that there is no need to call attention to yourself… when you have a kind and gentle, yet confident attitude, people are naturally drawn to you.

And from Elder Casey McDaniel, I have learned that life is short, so you had better be about Heavenly Father’s business. He is an example of seeing to the heart of what is the most important, and pursuing that, without being distracted by unimportant things. I have seen how people are drawn to him and want to be around him and be like him, because of his clean spirit, positive attitude and his refusal to judge others. He has also shown me the joy that comes from being independent. I didn’t always appreciate that independence, but now it is priceless.

My missionary board is covered with probably 80 cards from missionaries we have known and loved (okay, probably 30 of those cards are Elder Hobley’s... but still) and welcomed into our home. Even if they didn’t live here, each and every one still set an amazing example.

Five years, and what have I learned? I remember I didn’t even like to have the missionaries to dinner five years ago… it seemed so awkward. What could we even talk about? I guess I didn’t know much at all back then.