Blog Archives

Caroline

10/30/2016

Caroline………..

Cats
Coral lipstick
Cats with coral lipstick kiss prints on their heads….

Flowing skirt
Books, books, books
Classic movies

Elegance

Gardens and gardening
110 flower pots in her yard

Love of art
Passion for dance
Obsession with beauty and creation

Calligraphy
Beautiful stationary
Beautiful stationary, graced with beautiful words written in beautiful calligraphy

Tuned in on people and their unique needs, desires, offerings
Recognizing Christ’s image in our countenances

I went to Caroline’s funeral service in much the same way I went to her home….expecting to share some of my day with her.

My experience at her funeral service was identical to my experiences in her home.   I was filled, uplifted, ennobled; touched by Caroline’s grace at her funeral as I had been, as we all had been, in her presence.

Emily Dickinson’s coupling of words, recorded in Caroline’s arrangement of colors and fonts, hang in a frame on my living room wall.

If I can stop one heart from breaking
I shall not live in vain
If I can ease one Life the Aching
Or cool one Pain
Or help one fainting Robin
Unto his Nest again,
I shall not live in Vain.

Oh Caroline!   Hundreds are the lives whose aching you eased, the people whose pain you’ve cooled, the figurative robins who have received your help finding their nests.   And, more significant, in my opinion, are the hundreds of figurative robins who you have guided to find their songs….and their dances.

In the words of Robert Frost

Never again would birds' song be the same.
And to do that to birds was why she came.

We love you Caroline.
The steps to heaven are dance steps and we hope to follow your lead.

Caroline Jean Prohosky passed on October 26, 2016.
http://www.sundbergolpinmortuary.com/notices/Caroline-Prohosky

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Good Times!

10/23/2016

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23 October 2016

Dear Loved Ones,

Random hugs, regular “I love you Mom”s, and ready laughs---Chick is back and it is wonderful.   Wonderful.

I’d forgotten how much he hugs.   Anywhere, any time, and, apparently, for any reason—I can be concentrating at the computer, slaving over the stove, laboring on laundry, working at the warehouse (….I actually don’t work at a warehouse…just wanted to see if you were paying attention…) when two strong arms circle me from back or side and give me a gentle squeeze.    Fun!    Our boy is a hugger.   More often than not his hugs are accompanied by a sweet “I love you Mom.”    I love you too son.   And I am so glad you are home.

Tanah was home Monday and Tuesday of this week also.   Thank to her taste and my money, Chick is now a well-dressed hugger.    She took him shopping, an act of mercy that helped him secure stylish clothing and helped me preserve my sanity. (Clothes shopping tends to drive me crazy.)

He wore some of his new clothes on his date last night.   Yep, yep, yep….the man is courageously jumping into waters that he actively avoided before his mission.   He has another date coming up on Wednesday.    Whaaaa-whoooo!

Grace had a date last Saturday to an event she called “Stake-ies”.    Her preferred escort was not available the night of Roy High’s Sadie Hawkin’s Dance to Grace turned Saturday’s multi-stake dance into an alternate Sadie Hawkin’s experience.    And it was a good experience for all involved.

Our Grace makes things happen.    Her financial literacy teacher gave the class a worksheet that instructed them to compare and contrast banks and credit unions.   They had access to computers and were instructed to “fill in EVERY blank on the worksheet.    Find the required information. No excuses.” Grace spent ten minutes searching online before deciding that enough was enough.    Pulling out her phone, she punched in a credit union’s number.

“Good afternoon,” said the lady pleasantly. “How may I help you?”

The class went dead silent (while the teacher grinned widely) as Grace procured the required information.   In five minutes she the assignment was completed.

“Why spend hours searching for information online where there is someone working at the credit union who is paid to be nice and who has all the answers?” Grace asked rhetorically as she told us the story.   She also said that it was amazing how many friends she had in that class when her phone conversation ended.

I was in charge of OPA’s after school detention on Monday and I did NOT make any friends.   About 15 students were required to serve time with me after school and about 12 of them respectfully accepted their fate.   Exactly three—a 9th grader and two 7th graders, none of them my students—were horrible.   Horrible.   Disrespectful, disobedient, almost demonic….it was bad.

Detention is not supposed to be pleasant.   I let students do homework (some teachers allow them to do nothing except stare at the walls, floors, or ceiling) but I expect them to stay in their seats and be totally silent; it is not a social hall. These three could not/would not do that.   Up out of their seats, uttering snide comments, asking asinine questions, making mouth noises, tapping with feet or hands…. To say that they were uncooperative would be a significant understatement.

Fortunately for me, two of the miscreants created their own torture.   About five minutes into our hour together they expressed a desire to go to the bathroom.   No. “ I need to go to the bathroom.”   Sorry. “I really have to go.” Too bad. “I am going to wet my pants.” Okay. “I really, really need to go.” Bummer. “I am going to pee.”   Okay. I have no problem with that. You can pee….right here in your seat.   But you cannot leave.   They were pretty much in agony by the end of the hour.   [When I told Joe Drago the story he said I should have turned the faucet on and let water run next to them…I wish I would have thought of that…]

The third non-angel was not torturing himself and his attempts to torture me were largely succeeding.   Playing nice was not working for me.   Time to change tactics….   I picked up the phone, rang the school secretary and said, “May I please have the phone number for Kason’s parents.”     The room—Kason included—went silent.   “Yes,” they heard me say “please give me the cell phone and work phone number.”

After disconnecting with the secretary I immediately called the parent. “Hello, Melissa?....   This is Teresa Hislop from Ogden Preparatory Academy and I have the dubious pleasure of having your son in detention today.   He is having a really hard time being respectful and appropriate.   Would you mind talking to him and helping him understand the importance of respectful, appropriate behavior?....... “    When she indicated her willingness to talk to her son, I called him to the phone.

Yep, yep, yep….I did not make any friends that day…..

Lance makes friends wherever he goes and he recently re-connected with a friend, a former teacher of his whose grandchild attends Syracuse Arts Academy.     The friend told Lance about some fossil beds in Sardine Canyon.   Lance loves fossil hunting, I love Lance and Miles loves McDonald’s breakfasts and Subway sandwiches(we had to bribe him with both to get him to go with us willingly) so the three of us took a trip up the canyon during Fall Break.

We took canvas bags, rock hammers, and Zorro. Zorro rolled in feces (which earned him a ride home on the truck ved and a hose-and-dish-soap bath in the back yard when we got home), Miles loved pounding things (“I really had fun Mom—I am glad I came”), and Lance found two, large fossil-laden rocks that have joined the rock collection that lines our driveway.    We all contributed specimens to the canvas bag as well; fossilized coral, shells, and even a trilobite.   Good times.

Good times indeed!   Great times actually.    Great job (except detention and parking lot duty), great friends, great family, and a great God whom I love and who loves me.

Teresa

While Lance was finding fossils of shells,

coral.

and impressions of shells,

Miles was destroying things,

and I was taking photos of leaves and....

...of spiders....

...and of butterflies...

Actually, this butterfly showed up in our backyard. The greatest things are found at home, right? RIGHT!!!!

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He's Back!

10/16/2016

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Our son Chick, a.k.a. Elder Hislop, has returned home, safe and sound. Carrying a copy of his birth certificate, his Social Security card, his immunization records, a receipt from his driver's license, his high school yearbook, and accompanied by his stunning good looks, they let him on the plane without a photo I.D. WHAAAA-WHOOOO!

We did not require a photo I.D. to recognize him as he descended the escalators in the airport. He is our same wonderful Chick.

I am happy to report that things are great at home. On the way back from the airport all of us got our flu shots, which did not really make anyone happy but me.... We also stopped at Chick-fil-A which made everyone happy, including me. Since being home Chick has mostly moved into an attic room, completely fertilized both my pastures, read six 1,000+ page books, attended an Institute dance (notice the verb was "attended", not participated--there was no dancing involved), and secured a date with a darling girl for next weekend.

Life is good. God is great.

Photo I.D.....from Chick's fifth grade year at Midland Elementary

Darling Chick's laugh has not changed; still a whole, body expression of happiness.

Chick's first mission president, President Bonham, and his wife came to the airport to welcome the missionaries home.

Waiting to get flu shots....

Some of us were happier to get flu shots than others...

Glad grandmas

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The Parable of the Range Rover

10/9/2016

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www.lds.org/general-conference/2016/10/fourth-floor-last-door?lang=engOnce upon a time, in the very real life of Teresa Noel Hislop, there was a maroon-colored, Toyota van (dubbed by her daughters “Angel Mountain Hunter”) with a very heavy driver’s side door that seemed to fling itself open.    The said door’s balance was such that it swung out when opened, gaining speed as the swing gained arc.   Because the door was heavy (mass) and the swing quick (velocity), the door’s momentum was significant. (p = mv, where p is momentum, m is mass in kg and v is velocity in m/s.)    And a swinging van door with significant momentum can cause a significant amount of damage.

A decade or so ago I was in that maroon-colored van when I parked next to a nice person in a nice car at a nice restaurant.   Knowing the door tended to swing fast and hard, I opened it carefully.    On this un-fortuitous occasion, the wind grabbed the door and wrenched the handle from my grasp.    I watched in horror and gasped in dismay as the door’s momentum, now wind aided, carried my van’s door into the door of my-as-yet-unknown parking lot neighbor.

Thunk and clunk.

My door made its mark on their door which began a series of events that caused my insurance rates to increase. [It was classified as an accident—which it was as I certainly did not do it on purpose—so I lost my “accident free” status and had to pay full price for insurance for the next three years.]

Toyota must have savvy engineers, a great customer feedback system, or good luck (or a combination of the three) because our next two Toyota vans have not had the monumental-momentum driver’s side door issue that challenged Angel Mountain Hunter.   Their driver’s side door opens docily.   After a couple years of feeling grateful for the design alteration every time I opened the van door, the change’s impact faded and I largely forgot the issue.

Until a few weeks ago when I borrowed the Range Rover for a few weeks…..   The Rover’s front door also swings open fast and hard.   Due to my previous experience, I recognized the situation—and relived the scenario.    I also re-adopted my “be-oh-so-careful-when-opening-the-door” technique.

They say that history is destined to repeat itself….

I parked the Range Rover next to a nice person in a nice car at our nice, new library in Roy. Knowing the door tended to swing fast and hard, I opened it carefully.    Once again, the wind grabbed the door and wrenched it from my grasp.   I watched in horror and gasped in dismay as the door’s momentum, now wind aided, carried the Rover’s door toward my as-yet-unknown parking lot neighbor’s car.      And stood in awe as the door swung…and missed!   There was less than 1 mm between the Rover door and the car next door.   1 mm. [1 mm is 1/10 of a cm and 1 cm = about 2.5 inches; 1 mm = .039 inches] But 1 mm was enough.   The doors, both of them, remained unscathed.

Coincidence? No.    Was it blind luck that I happened to pull into that parking lot with just enough room on the driver’s side to avoid a door-to-door impact?   No.   Not coincidence. Not blind luck. Certainly NOT driving skill on my part. It was love. All-knowing, all-seeing, all-encompassing love. God’s love. For me.

I know God loves me.   He tells me in little ways all the time.   He told me when He sent Ogden’s Parks Director to give me a ride to the repair shop when my bike got a flat tire.   He told me when He directed to me to put daffodils in my daughter’s school locker, an action that was much more significant than I realized at the time.   He told me when He whispered to me to check the pig’s automatic waterer just before leaving for a week in July. [It had been turned off; they’d have died.]   He told me this week when the Animal Control Officer put Zorro back into our dog kennel instead of impounding him when he escaped and aggressively approached a neighboring meter reader.   He told me when He sent a General Conference message that sent me to the Bishop who sent me home with a peaceful heart.   He told me when He sent whales and did not send rain on our Oregon Coast field trip—a true miracle if ever there was one!

God loves me.    He tells me so intimately and frequently.   And I know, because His messages are so personal, so tailor-made to me, that He has my back.    When the big challenges come—when my heart aches, when fear threatens, when life seems dark, obstacles overwhelming and the path obscured, when prayers for change seem unanswered—I trust Him.   I know that things will work out because I know He loves me and I trust His love.

In the words of President Dieter F. Uchtdorf   I trust “that God loves us perfectly, that everything He does—every blessing He gives and every blessing He, for a time, withholds—is for our eternal happiness….. though we may not understand why certain things happen or why certain prayers go unanswered, we can know that in the end everything will make sense. ‘All things [will] work together for good to them that love God.’.....All will be made right….. All will be well.........We can be certain that answers will come, and we may be confident that we will not only be content with the answers but we will also be overwhelmed by the grace, mercy, generosity, and love of our Heavenly Father for us, His children.”

And that, my friends, is the parable of the Range Rover.

[President Uchtdorf's address:   www.lds.org/general-conference/2016/10/fourth-floor-last-door?lang=eng]

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Green Bay Who?

10/2/2016

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Green Bay anyone?

Miles labored on Labor Day.   He pulled and weed-whipped weeds in Randee Mayes’ garden for a couple hours.   Returing the favor (with 200% interest…she spend LOTS more time working for him than he spent working for her) Randee painted his room.    He worked a couple hours doing work that would be paid minimum wage.   She worked a couple multiplied by a couple multiplied by a couple plus more hours doing work that would be paid professional wages.    No doubt who got the better end of the deal.

The results are magnificent….and amazing.    Randee’s artistic talent is amazing as is Miles’ fanaticism.    Green Bay Packers carpet, blanket, and wresting mask….Green Bay gloves and hat and socks….. Green Bay books and banks and bracelets….

And the fascination does not stop there.    In the fall, it is all things football.   He spends Sunday begging me to let him check the computer for scoring updates, Mondays and Thursdays he pleads to watch NFL games, Fridays and Saturdays he angles for the opportunity to watch college football games. BYU is a particular favorite.   Friday he timed his homework to coincide with BYU’s game so that he was on the computer during game time and could frequently check the score.   He also loves Roy High football; during home games he hangs out in the end zone with friends and the morning after away games the first thing he does is check the newspaper for the score. Tuesday and Thursday he plays on a city league flag football team.   Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays he begs to go to Noah’s house where they play….yep, football.    Every day he checks the Internet for highlight videos, updates about injuries, and Fantasy Football standings.   Visits to nfl.com to see what is happening in the football world are also a daily occurrence.

Is football fascination a nurture or nature thing?   It must be genetic as no one in our immediate family is possessed—at least not by football mania.   I suspect it is a somehow transferred laterally via uncles.   I remember seeing my beloved Uncle Warren watching BYU football on T.V. while listening to Conference on the radio and I know Miles’ awesome Uncle Chris spent considerable time in his youth with his eyes glued (figuratively of course) on a football game and a football glued (or at least clutched tightly) in his hands.

Whatever the case….nature or nurture, genetically predestined or environmentally influenced, Miles’ fascination with football is very real….and very strong.

Go Packers!