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Good-bye Girls

8/19/2018

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By God’s grace we got our Grace….and now, with grace, we say “Bye Grace!”   

Thursday we delivered her to the University of Utah. Her assigned move-in moment was 11:30-12 noon.  We jockeyed for a position on the parking lot with significantly more parents than there were parking spaces, loaded her less-than-most-of-the-students-brought boxes into a red (of course!) cart, wheeled the cart to her dorm room, and moved her in…..bed made, clothes on hangers and in drawers, candy stashed, and red (of course) towel hung on a rack in her bathroom.     Done.

Food services offered a meal to dorm residents and their families that evening.   The food was fabulous and plentiful and free…. sushi, pizza, Philly steak sandwiches, Pasta Primavera, roast beef, hamburgers and French fries, soft shelled tacos…..   Note to self: On the Thursday before the Monday that classes start at the University of Utah, make it a point to visit the dorm cafeteria sometime between 5:00 and 7:00…..

Classes have not started but Grace’s adventures have.  She worked out in the gym (a first), toured campus with a guy she met over a mayonnaise jar (yep...she’d been on campus less than 3 hours when the first guy asked for her number), and lost (only for an hour) the engineering building.  She has shattered a toilet seat and a smashing (as in SUPER AWESOME) roommate named Alex. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Babbs squawks a lot (Grace calmed her) , Esther baaaa’s a lot (Grace scratched her), and Lance mopes a lot (Grace laughed at his jokes).  

As if losing one daughter this week were not enough, Tanah took off today.   She loaded C.J. (short for “Clunker Junker”, the ‘98 Honda Civic she has claimed as hers) almost to the gills, waved a cheerful good-bye to her tearful mother, and drove away.  She is on her way to Southern Utah University in Cedar City, with stops in SLC to see Grace and Provo to see a cute man named Paul. She’ll arrive late tonight, sleep in her car in a park (a girl after my own heart!), and will move into her apartment in the morning.  You go girl!!

Tanah is our exclamation point and Grace is our color (red, of course!).   Already the house is quieter...calmer…less vibrant...more staid. I can’t say that I wish they stayed---exciting times lie ahead for them---but I can say that I am not a fan of seeing them go.    Growing up hurts!!!


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Excited mover 1
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Excited mover 2
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Almost filled up the back of the van...
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Bye to Esther
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Bye to Babbs
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Goodbye girl!
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The red cart and the "SMASHING" roommate
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"That's my baby!!!"
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C.J. is.....
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...almost completely....
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...full!
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Good-bye to Ella
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Good-bye to Zorro
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Good-bye to Miles
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Good-bye girl!!
2 Comments

It's a Pig Deal!

8/12/2018

1 Comment

 
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It’s a Pig Deal….and it’s a big deal!  Fair 2018 is now on the record books. The lambs and pigs that arrived on our place this spring are gone…..so is the pit in my stomach that is a result of the constant worry I experience that something will happen to the animals….and so is a piece of my heart, DARN IT!   Though the critters are not mine, I do grown to love them.

Fair week began Tuesday at 4:00 a.m. when we loaded the pig into the trailer.   It was the easiest pig loading ever; two pigs strolled in on their own and the third pig was easily lured in with a bucket of food.   “I know his love language,” Miles said. And he did.

We gave the pigs an hour to finish their breakfast in the trailer before driving to the fairgrounds for weigh-in.  While waiting in line for our turn at the scales, we spoke more of their love language in the form of chocolate milk; each pig got a gallon.   

The love, chocolate milk, and prayers (LOTS and LOTS of prayers, some fasting, and a mention on the temple prayer roll) paid off for Grace’s pig.    The poor creatures spent over a month sick, plagued by projectile diarrhea (we learned the hard way to never stand behind it…..), and a severe stomach ulcer.   It went through three rounds of antibiotics, twice daily Gatorade treatments (picture using a water bottle to squirt Gatorade into a pig mouth….), and several different stomach-coating medications before slowly recovering.  We had no hope that it would weigh the required 230 lbs by fair time.

But prayers work and miracles happen.    Grace’s pig weighed in at 239 lbs. The boy’s pigs easily made weight as did all three lambs.     Having made weight, we figured everything else was frosting on the proverbial cake.

Each child got their serving of frosting.   For Cooper (my nephew) the frosting came during the pig show.   Over hearing me instruct Miles to show the judge the front view of his pig and to avoid a side view if possible (Miles’ pig’s chest was massive and its body short), Cooper asked me which aspect of his pig he should showcase to the judge.  “You can show it all,” I told him. “You have a great pig.”

I was right.   He did have a great pig.   It placed 2nd in the heavyweight division and 5th overall.  Fifth of 157 pigs is frosting. Miles’ pig was earned a blue ribbon, 5th of 10 pigs in its class, and Grace’s pig, too skinny for its long frame, earned a red ribbon.

Miles’ frosting came during the lamb show.   His lamb, which he professed to hate, earned 2nd in its class and 8th in heavyweight division.   Hate turned quickly to affection when the lamb earned him a place in the star class. Cooper’s and Grace’s lambs earned red ribbons.

Frosting for Grace came during the auction on the final day.   It had been a rough fair for her--two red ribbons, a dearth of showmanship honors and the knowledge that it was her final fair appearance as an FFA competitor.  She was having difficulty imagining how it could be worse when it got significantly better. The floor price (current market value) of lambs was $1.23/lb. Hers sold for $9.50/lb to a family friend who bid himself up from $3; no one bid against him but the lack of competition did not stop him.  Money speaks and it spoke loudly to her, changing her final fair from a “worst ever” event to an intensely validating experience.

And thus ends our 2018 fair season.   All the animals made weight and the rest was frosting on the cake.  

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1 Comment

Kind Over Right

8/5/2018

2 Comments

 
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“I am still working my goal to choose to be kind over being right,” I confessed to my cousin at a recent family reunion.

“I think that it is NOT kind to NOT tell people what is right,” she countered.

Her words gave me pause.   Hum…. I significantly respect this cousin (...she is awesome!...) and for good reasons.    Her comment was valid. So was my goal. How could that be? How can it be right to be kind instead of being right and unkind to fail to share what is right?

I believe the key, in this case, is that there are different types of wrong.   Wrong is not always wrong, just as it is not always right to be right. Now, I am not advocating moral relativism here.     I truly believe there is a distinct difference between right and wrong and the difference is absolute and universal. What I am saying is there is a difference between something that is morally wrong and something that should be done differently.     Allow me to explain.

It is wrong to allow young children to run unattended into the street or to play unsupervised with fire.   To allow them to do so would certainly qualify as unkind on a steroid-amped scale. Sex before marriage and spousal abuse are wrong.  Period. To fail to declare them as such would NOT be kind. Period. Kindness must not bow to morality. It has its place. It is possible to be moral and kind.   In fact, kindness should always accompany morality (see D&C 121:41-43) but it is not kind to ignore it.

Is it kind to ignore dirty socks on the floor, empty toilet paper rolls on the holder, and empty ice cube trays on the counter?  Clearly the right thing to do is put the dirty socks in the hamper, replace the toilet paper, and fill the ice cube trays with water but telling loved ones this is not always the kind...or the right...thing to do.

Sure, filling up the ice cube trays after emptying them is the right thing to do.  You emptied them. You should fill them up. Simple. It takes less than a minute to run the trays under the tap, open the freezer door, and set the filled trays in the freezer.    Refilling the trays immediately after emptying them makes all kinds of sense. It keeps the empty trays from cluttering the counter and it guarantees there is ice for you the next time you--or someone you love-- need it.  It is a matter of common courtesy. And common courtesy is right, right?

Not always.

When the person emptying the ice cube trays is struggling for emotional survival, when the depression demons are relentlessly attacking, when getting out of bed is a victory and small discouragements are devastating, then ice cube trays are not important.   It is NOT kind to remind, no matter how gently or lovingly, to refill the trays. And, in this case, it is not right either.

Who is/was the better president, Trump or Obama?   Is Title IX the best thing that happened to college sports or the worst?  Is the argument worth the relationship? Does it really matter where you squeeze the toothpaste tube?  Really? Should one take Ogden Canyon or go over Trapper’s Loop to get to Huntsville? Both routes arrive…..   Is $.02/gallon difference in gas price worth the critical comment? Should I tell the child who is so proud to have painted the hand rail that he missed a small spot?    

Choosing to be kind over being right is not limited to those dealing with depression.  Being kind over being right applies to the husband who forget to pick up the milk, the wife who left the gasoline tank in the car empty, and the teen who parked skiwampus in the church lot.   In fact, being kind is not limited at all. In many (probably not all but maybe most….) situations, where there are differences of opinion, differences of administration, and/or differences of application, choosing to be kind over being right is right.  

I choose to be kind over being right because it is the right thing to do…..most of the time.**

“Blessed are the merciful; for they shall obtain mercy.”  (Matthew 5:7)

**Actually, I am trying to choose being kind over being right and I hope I do it most of the time.   I am a work in progress. :)

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    Author

    Teresa Hislop
    thislop@msn.com

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